Lia's Story
by GreenWillow
Summary: Originally written in 1990 and presented here as it appeared in 1997 on GreenWillow's TMNT Lair. Contains some impolite language, minor blood, gore, adult situations, and some discussions of values, religion. Chronologically, this tale takes place between Mirage's Return to New York saga, and the City at War series.
1. Chapter 1

_"Shhhhh"_

_"Don't worry. She's not gonna hear us."_

_"Who do you suppose she is?"_

_"I don't know, Mikey. She's not wearing a name tag."_

_"I mean, what do you think she's doing down here?"_

_"Runaway, probably. Whaddya think, Don?"_

_"I think we should just follow her and make sure she gets out of the sewer ok. She looks scared."_

_"How 'bout you, Fearless Leader?...Leo?...hey, Leo! Earth to Leonardo!"_

_"Hm?"_

_"Hey, you got a starin' problem? Whaddaya wanna do about her?"_

_"Oh, yeah, right. Like Don said. Follow her, and make sure she gets out of the sewer safely."_

My name is Lia Hanrahan, and I think I may have made a wrong turn somewhere. The truth is, I'm not even sure what I'm doing down here anymore.

I find myself wandering through the stench-filled bowels of the underworld, looking for something, or someone, and I have no idea what. It seems that when I had first started out, I had been a lot clearer about what I was doing. At least earlier today, when I had found my way into these dark tunnels through a construction site excavation, it had been easier to run on faith. Now doubt has crept in. Like the dank chill down here, reality is closing in on me.

Far above me, in the glare of the sunlight, the great city throbs with life. Here, below, falls her refuse, what she prefers not to acknowledge as her own. In the half-light, with the distant muted gurgle of water, the hiss of overhead pipes, and the slosh of my own boots, it is easy to imagine other sounds, shapes, and movement in the shadows.

Fear comes and goes in waves as I trudge along.

I had prepared myself as best as I could according to what the Wisewoman had told me. She said, _"Purify yourself first in fast and prayer. When you are pure of heart, and clear in intention, go to the place I have shown you. Show yourself to be harmless. When those you seek understand your intention, they will come to you. Do not doubt though, they will long be aware of your presence before you are aware of theirs."_

I had walked for hours. And now, with each step, I felt my spirits sinking further. I saw only shadows in the darkness, and now those were deepening as less light fell through the storm grates. In some areas, where the tunnels seemed to run deeper underground, I could see almost nothing, and moved along by feel, my hands on the cold wet brick wall, needing to touch it, and afraid of what my hands might find. I had been wandering blind like this for sometime when I found a wide area where I could walk above the debris-cluttered water. I stumbled into a block of broken concrete. It seemed like a good time to stop and take stock. I sat down. I took my poncho out of my pack, and pulled it over me, drawing up my knees so the bright-colored wool covered most of me, and stared out into the gloom, listening. Far away the gurgling from the labyrinthine tunnels joined, as many voices murmuring.

I sat, feeling numb, trying to orient my self in the dark, and trying to connect with what my inner senses were telling me. I was exhausted past fear. The hope I had clung to earlier had paled to a frail ghost. If I let myself get honest, I knew despair would finally win. I knew there was no one down here to help me. I was nearly 3,000 miles from home on a wing and a prayer and some well-intentioned advice. I looked around. I had no idea how to get back to the place I had entered. I could probably die down here and never be found...

So this was it. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. It was over. The realization hit me like a blow. I felt foolish, lost, and mostly, completely and utterly alone. I dropped my head into my arms, gave up, and started crying. "There's no one here, Lia, you idiot." I said out loud into my arms. "No one at all..."

"Whom do you seek?"

I gasped and looked up. It was a young man's voice. I peered first to the right and then to the left, down the long tunnel stretching into the darkness on either side. "Who's there?" I whispered. Fear was suddenly back; my heart thudded.

"Who are _you_ and who is it you seek here?" the voice countered.

"My name is Lia," I quavered. "I was told by my teacher to look here for four warriors. I was told if I showed myself to be harmless and of good intention, I might ask for help. She told me to pray and purify myself, you know, to be prepared and I did all that and...um...hello?"

Silence.

I stood up clumsily, slipping on the damp brick, and leaning against the cold wall behind me. "I, uh, I suppose you can see I'm harmless?" The icy sensation of fear closed around me. I stared out blindly, my breath becoming shaky gasps. This guy could be anybody, and here I was telling him how harmless I was. "This seems a little strange," I ventured. "I can't see you."

"I can see you."

"Oh, good. That makes me feel better. I'm in a sewer, talking to some nameless, faceless voice who can see me."

"My name is Leonardo."

"Ok. A faceless voice named Leonardo."

"Right. Who is your teacher, and how did she know where to send you?"

"Her name is Belladonna, and she didn't actually know. She went into a trance and sent me here." A long silence followed. I wondered if I was being evaluated. I was certain my clarity of intention was no where in evidence. I was much too frightened of being murdered. I hugged my arms, trying to control my shaking. "You know," I finally said to the darkness. "I don't know if I'm supposed to be coming up with some secret password, or running for my life...not that you would tell me...though you could, I guess, if you wanted to..." I realized I was beginning to babble.

"You have nothing to fear."

Far up the passage to my left there was a movement, a shadow moving out of the shadows, and a little behind, three more. As they approached they took on form; they appeared to be short, even shorter than me, with something like packs on their backs. They moved silently, with cat-like grace, on the opposite shore of the narrow stream of debris-littered water. At twenty paces I could make out dark faces, masks of some kind. At ten paces I could see they were not human.

I heard myself make a strange squeaking noise, and fell back into the wall behind me, my boots slipping and crunching underfoot.

My vision began going gray, and I started feeling light-headed as my understanding of reality was violently challenged. They did not carry packs on their backs, but something like large turtle shells. Their arms and legs were muscled like powerful athletes, and they carried antiquated-looking weapons on their belts. Each wore a knotted fabric mask around his face, and their eyes gazed out, pale and reptilian, with human intelligence.

My legs went to jelly, I lost my footing and started to slip as two of them leaped at me. I screamed and felt cool, leathery hands catch me and steady me.

"It's ok, you're alright," one was saying. "We won't hurt you."

My breath was coming in ragged gasps. "Ok," I croaked, shrinking back. "I'm ok."

The two that held my arms slowly let go and stepped back. "We thought you were falling," said one. "You don't want to fall in that stuff." I nodded and swallowed and stared at them. They waited. It finally occurred to me that they were waiting for me to say something.

"What, I mean, who are you?" I asked when I found my voice.

"I'm Leonardo," said the one at my right.

"Mike," said the one on my left.

"Don." The one standing in midstream nodded at me.

The fourth hung back on the opposite side. "Raphael," he said at last.

"Are you...you're the four warriors?" I asked.

"Yeah, you found us!" On my left Mike's face twisted into a toothy, rakish grin. It was disconcerting, but I think it was meant to be friendly.

"Actually," said Don, stepping up out of the slimy water. "We found you." The glimmer of a smile curved half his mouth.

"Yeah, and who had to find you?" Mike asked Don, grinning wider and playfully punching his arm.

"I wasn't lost," said Don. "It was a Hewlett Packard Laser Jet II. I couldn't just leave it there!"

"You're always lost," muttered Raphael from across the stream.

_"I'm _lost? _I'm _lost?" demanded Don, turning back to look at him. "Look who's talking!"

"I don't get lost," argued Raphael.

I stared at them. These ferocious looking creatures sounded like teenage boys. I was even more confused. This was hardly what I had imagined, but what had I been expecting? Soldiers of fortune? Knights in armor?

"Um, I want to apologize for frightening you," said Leonardo, cutting through the other's bantering. "We must be very careful. We have taken a risk in speaking to you, but you looked like you needed help. And you sounded like you were looking for us."

I shrugged and gulped. _Sorta. I guess..._

"But now you must understand something. We would ask that you not tell anyone about us. We may be able to help you, but we will ask you to honor this. It's very important. Do you understand?"

I nodded. Who would believe me, anyway, I thought.

Leonardo was deadly serious. "We have enemies. And we have much to lose."

I looked from one to the other. "Please, you can trust me."

Leonardo looked at me. His face was unreadable to me, but I felt he was trying to read mine. He gave a slight nod, and behind his mask his bright eyes left me and met the others. Something was communicated between them in that brief glance. On the far side, Raphael cocked his head, unsmiling. He scratched his chin and gave Leonardo a significant look.

"So," Don broke the silence. "Assuming it's really us you're looking for, why don't you tell us why you came to us?"

"Ok," I cleared my throat. "It's a long story."

"Then how about giving us the Reader's Digest version?" suggested Raphael rather impatiently.

"Oh. Uh, ok..."

"Hang on, Raph," said Don, turning to me in the gloom. "Tell us everything you think we need to know."

"Yeah, take your time." Mike cheerfully settled down cross-legged at my feet.

I looked at Leonardo again. "Go on," he said more gently than before. "You came to us for help. Tell us what you need."

"Ok..." I gingerly sat back down on the concrete block. I heard Raphael sigh with asperity and slog across the water to stand with the others. I took a deep breath. "I, too, have an enemy," I began. "Four years ago I ran away from home and got involved with a group of people. It was a school of esoteric studies-"

"Whazzat?" asked Mike.

"It means like hidden truths," I explained. "Like information that isn't allowed to be known by everyone-"

"Why not?"

"Michaelangelo!" scolded Don. "Let her tell the story. I'll explain the hard parts to you afterwards!"

" 'Michaelangelo'?" I asked, struck by his name.

"I just wanted to know why anyone would hide the truth," Mike shrugged.

"It's called lying," said Raphael.

"Wait a minute," I interrupted the interruption. "Michaelangelo, Raphael, and Leonardo, like in da Vinci?"

"Yeah," said Leonardo. "Only different."

I looked at Don questioningly. "It's Donatello," he offered.

"Ok," I said feeling like I really wanted to ask about their story, rather than tell mine. "Are you guys artists?"

"Of a sort," said Donatello. "Go on, please."

"Ok, so it was a school of esoteric studies, but there was other stuff, like a regular school, and a martial arts school. When I enrolled there the Master teacher took me on as a-ah, special student. " I paused. These guys, whoever they were, didn't need to know all of this. "Anyway, I was in 'way over my head. At first he was very good to me, but then it got bad...really bad. By the time I realized I was in danger, I also realized I wouldn't be allowed to leave. I knew too much, had seen too much." I bit my lip. I didn't want to feel what I was starting to feel talking about it. Just report the facts.

"What did you see?" asked Michaelangelo.

" Too much. But I realized that if I stayed I would eventually be destroyed..."

"You mean killed?"

"Yes, one way or another..." I looked at each of them, searching for some response to what I had said. Their their faces impassive masks. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I think I get what you're saying," said Donatello.

"He hurt you?" asked Leonardo.

I nodded. I wasn't ready to talk about all that yet. "He can be...um... a very violent man. I wanted to get out, but I didn't know how, even while part of me believed in him and his teachings still." I took a deep breath. "Anyway, I finally did escape. I was so afraid he'd come looking for me, I hid out in the mountains for two years, mostly all alone, except for Belladonna...I started to write a book. It's sort of like an exposé. I even found a publisher here in New York who was willing to take a chance on me..." I looked down the cold must have been getting to me because I was starting to shake again. "The thing is, I have to confront him now. I can't be afraid and hide all my life..."

"It's a matter of honor," nodded Leonardo.

"Couldn't he sue you for libel or something?" asked Donatello.

I shook my head. "He wouldn't go that route. Legally he doesn't even exist. What I really fear is...is..."

"For your life?" finished Michaelangelo.

"Yeah." Now it seemed I was speaking their language. I looked down and paused. I wasn't sure I could go on. I tried to steady my breath, control the shaking emotion inside me.

"Is there anything else?" asked Donatello.

"Yes," I whispered. "He has my daughter."

"Hooboy," whistled Michaelangelo softly.

"You have a daughter?" Donatello sounded puzzled. I'm sure, just like everyone else, he thought I looked too young. It didn't help how I was feeling.

Raphael sat down with resignation. "I suppose you have notified the police?"

"I tried everything..." I was starting to cry again, and I felt embarrassed to be losing it in front of them. "Police, some detective who just disappeared. I even tried some of my old, supposed friends from the school. No one would tell me anything."

"You have _no _leads at all," said Raphael, making it sound like an accusation.

"Belladonna said he is here, in New York."

"How does she know that?" asked Leonardo.

"The same way she knew how to find you." I answered. "I know one of his three centers is here. I don't know where it is, but he doesn't know I am here, either, so maybe that's an advantage." I looked up at them. "Look, I don't know what you can do, I mean, I only know I was sent here to ask for help...and I don't know how...but ..can you...can you help me?"

Leonardo raised a hand, stopping me. "What's this guy's name?"

"Alexander Skylord."

Leonardo's brow furrowed. "And so what you are asking from us is to help you find this Skylord, and rescue your daughter, and make sure he doesn't stop you from writing your book, right?"

I pressed my fingers to my mouth. I knew it was too much to ask of total strangers. My tears spilled over. "I don't know where else to turn..."

Leonardo motioned with his head, the others stood. I felt Michaelangelo's hand briefly touch my shoulder, as though comforting me. They moved upstream a few paces to confer quietly. I looked the other way. I could almost feel Raphael's resistance. Not more than minute must have passed, though it felt interminable. I shivered in the chill and wiped my eyes, trying not to think what I would do if they refused. I've given this my best shot, I told myself. I've done what I was told. This was it.

They waded back and stood in front of me.

"We will help you," said Leonardo.


	2. Chapter 2

I think my mouth dropped open. "You can? you will?' I stammered. "I mean...thank you- thank you-"

Donatello looked at the others. "I think the first thing we need to do is arrange for some kind of protection for- -what did you say your name was?"

"Lia. Lia Hanrahan."

"Lia. This Skydude may come after her if he figures out what she's up to."

"Skylord."

"Whatever."

"I've got a hotel room," I said.

"Registered in your own name?" asked Raphael.

"Oh...yeah." I suddenly felt foolish again.

"Ok," said Leonardo. "You need a safe place. We're going to have to clear this with Splinter."

"Splinter-?" I asked.

"Our sensei. Our teacher," Donatello explained.

"What do you have to clear? Is he gonna be ok with you helping me?" I was worried.

"Yeah, don't sweat it," yawned Raphael. He stretched and ran a hand over the smooth, hard-looking plates that covered his chest and stomach. "Man, I'm starving."

"Me too!" joined Michaelangelo.

"Wait! Wait!" I stood up, too. "How am I going to find you again? I'm not even sure how I got here, wherever this is-"

Raphael grinned crookedly for the first time. "Yeah, we were wondering what the hell you were doing wandering around here for so long. We musta followed you for four hours."

I stopped and stared at him. "For four hours...you followed me...?"

"Hold on," said Leonardo. "First, we're not leaving you here. You're coming with us."

"Hey, c'mon, Leo," protested Raphael. "Let's eat first."

"What do you guys eat?" I asked, still afraid they would leave.

"Food," said Raphael dryly.

"Pizza!" grinned Michaelangelo. The others exchanged looks.

"Pizza?" I wondered where they would ever get pizza if they spent their lives hiding underground. I wondered, in fact, how they managed to get by at all. Or how they could help me, if they were confined to the sewers. I didn't want to pursue that thought any further. "Look, how about if I get a pizza. I could, you know, go up there, find a pizza place, bring it back, meet you somewhere...?"

They were 'way ahead of me. "Good idea," said Leonardo. "Don, you and Mike take her to Amiel's. Raph and I will head back and check in with Splinter."

"Yes!" enthused Michaelangelo. The prospect animated them. I hurriedly picked up my back pack and slung it over one shoulder.

We set off an a good pace. I had trouble keeping up, slogging and slipping in the mire.

"So," Donatello glanced back at me for the third time. "All that preparing and purifying yourself you were told to do, what was that about?"

"Praying, mostly," I said. "Praying you'd be real, too." I stumbled over something invisible and very hard in the water. "Ow. I'm still not really sure.."

"Here," said Michaelangelo snatching up my hand and laying it on his cheek. It was warmer than his hand. "See? Real!" He didn't let go, but drew up next to me, hooking his arm through mine. "C'mon, I'll help you. These sewers are tricky if you don't know 'em."

Donatello looked back again. "You flirt, Mike!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"D-2!" Mike grinned at me, teeth flashing in the gloom. "Heh, get it?"

I nodded uncertainly. "Have you guys lived down here along time?"

"Just about our whole lives."

We reached our destination and stopped under a wide storm drain about fifteen feet overhead. Darkening buildings could be seen through the slats and it looked to be close to dusk The bottom rung was about three feet above my head. I looked up at it.

"Ok," Michaelangelo was saying. "Get two large pizzas, ok? Pepperoni, 'shrooms, cheese, oh, yeah, extra cheese..."

"Um, how do I get up there?" I asked interrupting his reverie.

"Here, hop up," said Donatello bending over. "Give her a boost, Mike."

"I don't want to hurt you," I said, putting my slimy boot into Michaelangelo's clasped hands.

"You won't ," Donatello assured me. "It's a turtle shell."

While that comment may have clarified my question about their species, it did nothing to help my understanding of who or what my new friends really were. And this was hardly the time to pursue the matter. I stood on his back, clutching the cold steel rung of the storm drain ladder and climbed up carefully. "Just pizza?" I called down.

"No, better get Splinter a salad. He doesn't really like pizza."

"And sausage," said Michaelangelo. "And peppers. Don't forget extra cheese, ok?"

"Just push the grate aside," called Donatello. "It's loose."

I crossed the street heading back to the narrow side street where the storm drain was, carrying four large food containers. I could make out some movement below the grate, something no one else might have noticed if they were not looking for it, and a pair of bright eyes watching me. Despite their strangeness, and the threatening appearance of my four new acquaintances, the face peering at me was reminiscent of a wistful puppy.

Suddenly everything changed. Michaelangelo shouted "Look out!" and burst out from the narrow drain, Donatello right behind.

"Get down!" cried Donatello.

I froze. "What? What?" I asked stupidly, looking around.

A husky voice right behind me shouted "Get the girl!" and a gloved hand slapped over my mouth, jerking me backwards as the food containers flew.

The scene before me exploded as the alley suddenly seemed to swarm with hooded, black-clad men, leaping out from behind dumpsters and from overhead fire escape platforms. I was dragged backwards, watching helplessly as my two companions were attacked. They leaped into the midst of ten men and fought like demons against what seemed like impossible odds. Michaelangelo's weapons spun in his hands as he dove in, kneeing one man so he doubled over and then clobbering him with his weapon. At nearly the same instant he struck a second man in the jaw who came at him from the side. Donatello's staff sang through the air, spinning one way, and then twisting the other, as two men dropped to their knees on either side of him.

In the confusion someone wrenched me from my first captor, pulling across the alley, pinning my arms behind me. Something cold and very sharp was laid up against my throat. My fear escalated to white terror-this guy had a knife at my throat-he was going to kill me!

Donatello sent another man crashing to the ground with an arcing sweep of his staff. He spun toward me. "Let her go!" he shouted. "She has nothing to do with you!"

"Ah, but it would seem she has something to do with _you_!" spat the man who held me. "Lay down your weapons! Now!" He jerked me back harder for emphasis. I felt the sting of the knife blade. I was too terrified to breathe.

The moment froze in time, the battle hung in suspended animation. Michaelangelo and Donatello tensed and poised, weapons ready, glancing between the men who surrounded them, and the one who held me. Three men in black were on the ground, one moving, two lay still. The other men stood ready, eyes fixed on the two strange warriors in the fading light.

For an instant I saw something strange- so strange I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. A silvery blade, a slender, flat, sword flashed perpendicular before my eyes. Suddenly the man holding me screamed, blood spurted from his hand, the dagger at my throat flew away, and I tumbled forward.

"Run!" commanded Leonardo leaping between us from above. I half-ran, half-fell across the alley, and crouched behind a dumpster. I really had no idea what had just happened, but I saw Raphael hit the ground right behind Leonardo and the battle erupted in full force again. The odds were better, but still not good.

From my hidden corner, however, I could observe an elegant teamwork in my new friends' fighting style. Michaelangelo would send a man reeling back with a glancing blow, and Donatello would finish him off with thrust from his staff to the stomach. Leonardo spun and caught one man in the jaw with the heel of his two-toed foot, and Raphael sent him to the ground with the handle of his weapon. The four of them were not merely holding their own against these creepy guys, they were _creaming_ them. I had the strangest impression, too, that they were having fun doing it. With the exception of the wound inflicted by Leonardo's sword which allowed my escape, the battle, for the most part, was bloodless. It all happened so quickly and the men who had only moments before seemed so threatening, were either down, or crawling away groaning.

I crept out and gathered the food containers. Both the salads and the pizza were now tossed, but not irreparably.

The last man hit the asphalt, Raphael and Michaelangelo slapped a high five, or, I guess, three, and shouted "Let's go!" I was all but carried across the alley, stuffed down the narrow passageway and rushed down the ladder. We took off at a dead run.

We ran through the now pitch black sewer system, through narrow angling tributaries, down twists and turns, at break-neck speed. I clutched the food containers to me, grateful for having someone's arm hooked through each of mine. In a wider tunnel we pulled up. Leonardo silently nodded to the others, and he, Michaelangelo, and Raphael left, back-tracking slowly, now making not a sound in the knee-deep water. I was gasping for breath, leaning against the wall. Donatello stood a little in front of me, his staff held protectively before us. His sides were heaving also, but he made no sound. I tried to gasp and wheeze a little more quietly.

"It's ok, no one's followed us." Michaelangelo's voice was the first I knew they were back.

"Oh yeah!"

"Awright, Bros!"

I slumped into the wall, still panting and shaking. "Jeez, you guys are good..." I managed to say.

"Oh, we're the best!" crowed Michaelangelo.

"And don't you forget it!" joined Raphael, grabbing Michaelangelo and rubbing a noogie on his head.

"I won't." Their lack of modesty was charming. "I really thought I was dead back there."

"Nah, dead is when you're not breathing," explained Donatello.

"Dead is what happens when you're as hungry as I am now!" countered Michaelangelo.

"Hey, d'you still have the food?" asked Raphael, eyeing the boxes in my arms.

"Uh huh..."

"Wow."

"This girl's got her priorities straight!" beamed Michaelangelo.

"Let's go!"

"Let's eat!"

"Hey, hey, wait..!" I said. "Who were those guys anyway? I mean, men in black-?"

"Oh, shoot, an' here I didn't get Will Smith's autograph!" Michaelangelo slapped his forehead.

"What?" I asked.

"Come on! Come on! We can walk an' talk at the same time!" pressed Raphael.

"So who were they?" I asked again, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't know," said Raphael.

"You don't know...? Ow!" I slipped on something in the dark and hit my elbow on something else. Michaelangelo relieved me of the food containers and Donatello took my hand.

Ahead of us Leonardo said, "Six months ago I'd have said they were Foot. Today, I couldn't tell you."

"What's Foot?" I asked.

"The Foot were a Ninja Clan. As far as we know they don't exist here anymore."

"Well, those guys certainly existed. Are you sure? They looked like movie Ninjas, sort of..." I suggested.

"They weren't Foot," said Leonardo with finality.

"Nah," agreed Raphael. "Those guys really sucked."

"Yeah, total punks," said Michaelangelo.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"They were too easy," explained Donatello.

"Easy?" I repeated. "You coulda fooled me. That was like ten men, twice your size..."

"Eleven," corrected Leonardo. "And size has nothing to do with it."


	3. Chapter 3

We paused in wide tunnel, dimly lit by a single feeble electric bulb in a wire cage. Huge pipes ran along the walls near the ceiling and the rumble of the subway nearby vibrated the ground. Donatello pressed a crack in the wall and section slid away to reveal another passageway.

"Wow," I whispered.

"My invention." Donatello looked pleased.

Five feet into the hidden passage there was a wide wooden door. "Oh, uh, say," Leonardo turned to me. "How do you feel about rats?"

"I like rats," I said brightly. "I used to have a pet-" I paused. "Wait...what kind of rats? Lots of rats?"

"Well, one. Master Splinter."

I took a slow breath. The Alice in Wonderland quality was coming back. "So, your Master Splinter is a rat. Ok. I...ah...assume he's a large rat? Like you guys are large...um...whatever..."

Michaelangelo indicated a height just below his shoulder.

"Ok, thanks for the warning. I'd hate to faint dead away at the dinner table..."

"Hate it when that happens..." muttered Raphael darkly.

My companions gave their large muddy feet cursory swipes on a grass mat before entering a larger room off the entry passage. I had the impression I was entering some ancient Japanese home, except the walls were brick instead of paper. A soft-hued painting of a mountain hung on one curving wall, and the scent of incense drifted down the passageway. I unlaced and slipped off my sewer-slimy boots, left them by the door, and stepped into a candlelit room.

They were seating themselves on the floor on a woven bamboo mat before a well-worn blue couch upon which sat the most dignified and venerable looking rat I had ever encountered. He sat cross-legged and was, as Michaelangelo had suggested, smaller than the others, and covered with dark, silver-tinged fur. His intelligent, dark eyes glowed beneath alert pointed ears. He wore a blue silk robe tied with a cord and his long hairless tail coiled at his feet. The scene was almost too bizarre to comprehend. I stopped in my tracks.

The rat raised his head to look at me and motioned with a delicate hand. "Come in child. There is nothing to fear. Come in and sit down." His voice was soft and husky, with a Japanese accent. I sat in the chair adjacent to the couch and dropped my back pack on the floor next to me. "It is good to meet you, Lia. My name is Splinter. My sons have told me of your plight, and I welcome you to our home. It is not often that we have guests."

"It's nice to meet you, too. I really, um, thank you for your hospitality, and help ...and...um...thank you." I wanted to say more but I couldn't figure out what was appropriate However, my apprehension was dissolving. The furry face before me reminded more than anything of a sweet old dog, only with a soothing, human voice.

"You are most welcome. We will discuss your situation further in a moment. Please make yourself at home." Master Splinter turned his attention to his students, kneeling on the floor in a half circle around his couch. His tone became more serious as he addressed them. "You have fought this evening?"

"Yes, Master," said Leonardo. "We don't know who they were. They were dressed as Ninja, but they were not Foot."

Splinter crossed his hands under his chin as the battle was described to him.

"They seemed very inexperienced. They didn't even carry weapons. I think it might have been just dumb luck they ran into us." Leonardo looked at me. In the soft candlelight his eyes seemed to glow some strange pale color behind the red fabric of his mask. "Lia, do you think they might have been someone looking for you?"

The thought was chilling. "I don't think so. I've never seen anyone in the Brotherhood dress like that. When they did martial arts classes they wore white."

"The Brotherhood? Is that Skydude's people?" asked Michaelangelo. I nodded. "I don't think this had anything to do with her either," he went on. "It seemed like she just got caught in the middle."

Splinter was gazing at some point in the center of the floor. He appeared to be lost in thought. "This does concern me," he said softly at last. "We have not been back in New York for very long, and it is troubling that already someone may know of our presence here. We did not return to seek new enemies. We shall have to see what unfolds with time." Splinter turned his gaze to me. "And now, tell me, my child, who is this man you fear, and what does he do?"

"His name is Alexander Skylord," I answered, thinking about Splinter's comment about not seeking new enemies. "He is a teacher, the leader of the Brotherhood, which is the group I was in for two years. It's like a school, but you live there and everyone studies Alex's teachings. He's a very powerful man, I guess you could say charismatic. His students are very loyal to him-"

"So what does he teach?" asked Raphael.

"It's a combination of disciplines. Western esoteric stuff, the kabbalah, metaphysics, some kind of martial arts, I'm not sure about that 'cause the women weren't allowed to take that, and um..." I hesitated. "..ritual magic."

"Ritual _magic?" _repeated Raphael derisively. "Ya mean like conjuring? Hocus-pocus? Illusions?"

"Conjuring and invoking, yes," I answered. It was hard enough to talk about this without being made fun of.

"Aw, gimme a break..."

I was trying to think of something equally rude to say about the absurdity of my speaking to large talking animals, but when I get angry and hurt at the same time, I'm not very clever.

Splinter rescued the moment. "This is an area in which my sons have not had a great deal of experience. In that respect there could be danger. This is not a circumstance to be taken lightly, Raphael."

Raphael was subdued for the moment and sat glowering at the reprimand.

"I could show you all, teach you what I know, about how to protect yourselves-" I began.

They all turned and stared at me. "That'll be great, lady," snapped Raphael "You gonna give us lessons in self-defense?"

"I mean from the magic-!" I felt embarrassed and more than a little angry at Raphael.

"Terrific," continued Raphael sarcastically. "Look, don't call us, we'll call-"

"Cool it, Raph," Leonardo put a hand on his shoulder. Raphael brusquely shrugged him off.

"Look," I said, feeling anxious to explain myself as my cheeks began to burn. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you-you saved my life today! It's just that, like, what he-uh, Master Splinter said, it could be dangerous if you aren't familiar-I mean, it's better to know what you're up against-"

"She's right, you know." Leonardo said softly. " Ignorance of the enemy's ways was never an aid in battle."

I could have kissed him. Well, figuratively.

Rebuffed twice, Raphael went back to smoldering.

Splinter cleared his throat. "There is another point to consider. There are two paths open to a Teacher, two means by which order is maintained, and obedience and loyalty created in the students. One is the path of Love, and the other is the path of Fear. You say this man's students are loyal to him. Lia, which path do you think he has chosen ?"

I didn't have to think. "Fear."

Splinter nodded. "Such a path, chosen knowingly, presents a danger to the man who so chooses. Those who follow him may someday rise up in anger, to strike him down. And he, not having forged the way with his heart, will not hesitate to strike back."

I wasn't sure if I was being reprimanded for my attack on Alex with my book or warned. I swallowed and nodded.

"He hurt her, Splinter," said Michaelangelo. "And he's kidnapped her kid."

"Yes, my son," said Splinter. "And all of this information is important to bear in mind, so we may understand this man, and anticipate his actions." He turned to me. "I understand you are in need of a safe place to stay."

I nodded.

"My sons have asked that you be allowed to stay here with us, just for the period of time it takes for them locate your child and her abductor. I have agreed to this, though I realize these are very primitive accommodations."

"Oh, no, " I had to interrupt him. "This is very cozy-you would be amazed at where I've been living . I just don't want to impose. I mean, I'm already in your debt-"

"No, little one, you are not imposing." Splinter's mouth curved into a smile.

"Thank you," I said again. "Thank you all so much-"

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and had the impression some silent communication had passed between Raphael and Leonardo, but I couldn't tell for sure.

Michaelangelo looked up and glanced around at the others. "So, uh, food?" he suggested.

"Food!" they chorused.

We ate at a low black-enameled table top. There were no chairs, we sat on the floor. The turtles wolfed down the cold pizza. I hadn't been in a regular high school for very long, but this meal reminded me of my old cafeteria. The table where the varsity football team fed. I scavenged a slice for myself and couldn't suppress a giggle at the absurdity of it all.

"What's funny?' asked Raphael, licking his fingers. He didn't smile.

"Oh, gee...I dunno," I looked around the little warm room, hung with martial arts weapons, Japanese brush paintings, low end tables of assorted vintage strewn with magazines, computer discs, training weights and wires and telephone components piled in one corner, large unidentifiable industrial-looking parts, the television with the clothes hanger antenna, four green-skinned, five-foot tall turtles scarfing down pizza, and the three foot tall rat nibbling tossed green salad with chop sticks. "I was told New York would be different..."

I gathered the dishes when the feeding frenzy had slowed down and started to head through a beaded doorway that looked like it led to the kitchen.

"Hey, no, wait, don't go in there," Leonardo tried to take the stack of dishes from me.

"No, really, it's ok. I want to do these," I argued. He sighed and reluctantly let me go. Once through the doorway I saw why he had tried to stop me. At least a week's worth of crusty dishes lined either side of a sad-looking leaky sink. Well, I had certainly asked for it.

In the next room I heard, "Jeez Raph, ya couldn't have done 'em last night?"

"Hey, Mike's dishes were still in there from the night before!"

The plumbing was interesting: all overhead and I realized they must have simply tapped into the city water lines. Same with the electricity. There was a noisy refrigerator on my left and an elderly electric stove to the right of the sink. The hot water worked great and I wondered if there was a shower anywhere. I could certainly use one. I sloshed my hands in the hot soapy water and found myself wondering why Raphael seemed to dislike me so much. He made no effort to conceal his hostility. Maybe he was just more mistrustful than the others. It bothered me though. I felt very vulnerable asking for their help and not really knowing who or what they were, except I had just watched the four of them pound the living daylights out of eleven men. Belladonna had sent me here, I told myself. These have to be the right ones, right?

Out of nowhere a shiver of fear ran through me. I didn't want to feel that. I quickly focused my attention on the task at hand. Without a lot of Brillo pads the encrusted plates would have to soak. I hummed to myself and scrubbed what would yield to a sponge and finger nails.

"Hey, Donnie," came a peevish voice from the other room. "How come this remote isn't working?"

"'Cause you guys keep throwing it at the TV!"

I smiled to myself and sang some more, thinking of Snow White. I hadn't sang in a long time.

_La la la, la la la la...just remember in the winter _

_far beneath the bitter snows_

_Lies a seed that with the Sun's love_

_in the Spring becomes a Rose..._

Oh, Sweet Goddess-how did I manage to sing_ that? _My throat tightened and I dropped my head and tried not to cry, clutching the edge of the sink, feeling my shoulders shake.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

I spun around. Three turtles were crowded in the doorway, looking at me

"What are you doing-?" I yelped.

"What? We were listening to you sing," explained Michaelangelo. "You sing really pretty. Then you -what happened?"

"Oh," I sniffed, and felt my cheeks turning pink. "I didn't know you were there-it's just that, Rose is my daughter's name..." This was so embarrassing. I started to wipe my eyes with my wet hands, and stopped, feeling discombobulated.

"Oh." Donatello looked sympathetic.

"Shhh, don't worry," said Leonardo. "We'll find her. And we'll take care of this creep that kidnapped her."

"You bet," said Michaelangelo. "He'll think twice about messin' with either of you again with a set of 'chucks stuffed up his nose!"

That had the desired effect; it was too funny a picture. I started laughing.

"Come on," said Leonardo leading the way out to the living room area. I wiped my eyes and followed. "Here's the plan," he said. "Splinter suggested we leave for your hotel room two hours before dawn. That gives us all a chance to get some sleep first. We can get your things out under cover of darkness and if anyone has tried to find you, or leave a ransom note, that's the most likely place, right?"

"There, or with my publisher, if anyone knows she's my publisher."

"And then what?" asked Raphael from the couch, obviously not addressing me.

"Splinter may know where Skyking's training dojo is," said Leonardo.

"Splinter may know?!" I repeated. I looked around but he was nowhere in sight. "How does he know? Is he sure? Where is it? Did he tell you-?"

"Splinter knows stuff," explained Donatello, which explained nothing.

"Anyway," went on Leonardo. "Once we've secured Lia's room, and gotten her things out, we can go to the center. Lia, you can stay here till we get back. This could be over very quickly, especially if he's keeping your kid right there."

"I want to go with you!" I couldn't believe it. They knew where to look. We were practically done! "Can't we go now?" I asked. "If we know-"

"Lia," said Donatello. "She may not be there."

"But if there's even a chance-!"

"Look" interrupted Donatello again. "If this guy is as violent as you say, it could get a little rough."

"Oh, I do hope so," Raphael's gaze never left the 11:00 news, but his tone was icy, and a little frightening.

"But-this is my daughter!" I argued.

"Um, Lia, no offense," broke in Michaelangelo. "But you're not exactly an asset in a fight."

"Oh." That sort of hurt, even if I knew he was right. "But, can't I-can't you-?"

"You can come with us to your hotel room. Get your things and check out. Call your publisher tomorrow. Leave the rest to us." Leonardo pronounced with authority. I had a disturbing feeling that perhaps a great deal of this was now out of my hands. I wasn't sure if I felt relief, or panic.


	4. Chapter 4

"So," Raphael flicked off the TV set, stood and yawned. "In the morning..." He turned and left the room through another passage off to the left of the living room. I gazed down at the lumpy couch.

"Lia, why don't you take my bed," suggested Leonardo.

"Oh, I couldn't do that!"

"No, it's ok," he insisted. "I like the couch. I end up out here most of the time anyway. Come on, I'll show you." I picked up my pack and followed him through the passageway where Raphael had gone. It led to a dark, narrow, tunnel-like room faintly illuminated by a single yellow light bulb. Four simple futons lined the floor. Raphael lay on the far one, his back to us, his shell reflecting the light, belt, weapons and pads dropped on the floor.

"Here," said Leonardo, indicating the closest futon. "It's not fancy but..."

"Oh, gee, thank you. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. It'll be an early start, so we need to get some sleep. G'night." He turned to go, glancing back for a moment. Leonardo seemed to be all business; not exactly cold, but so serious.

To my left Donatello quietly came into the room, walked behind me, unbuckling his belt. He laid his staff and gear carefully by the futon nearest to Leonardo's and flopped down on it, picking up a book.

I felt very awkward. I certainly didn't want to climb into Leonardo's bed in my filthy, still-wet jeans, and I didn't want to take my pants off in front of Donatello. Michaelangelo wandered in, his mask pulled down around his neck. He sat down on Donatello's bed, and smiled up at me. In the dim light I could see his eyes, too, were light and clear, and what looked like a sprinkling of freckles splashed across his nose. I smiled back and began unbraiding my hair, stalling.

"Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?" I wasn't sure what he meant.

"That thing with your hair, like a rope?"

"I just braid it to keep it out of the way," I explained.

"Oh," said Michaelangelo. "It looks nice loose." He looked at Donatello. "April wears her hair loose."

"April's hair is curly," added Donatello. "You thinking of growing some, Mike?"

"Yeah. I like that red color," he grinned at me again. "How do you think I'd look?"

"Like a reverse carrot," said Donatello, not looking up from his book.

I started to giggle and clapped my hand over my mouth.

Michaelangelo started to snatch Donatello's' book away, but got smacked on the head with it instead. Donatello still didn't look up, but a faint smile curved his mouth.

"Who's April?" I asked trying for control, lest Michaelangelo think I was laughing _at _him.

"A friend of ours," answered Donatello. "A human friend. She used to live here in New York, but now she's up in Northampton. That's where we were living before we came back here, on a farm."

"A farm? Why did you guys come back here?"

"It was Splinter's idea," said Donatello. "He has his reasons."

I had the impression Donatello was not necessarily happy with the decision. Even without their masks, the two looked nearly identical. Their eyes were very large and round, colorless in the yellow light. Their faces were broad, with wide, expressive mouths. There were so many questions I wanted to ask them: what were they, and why did they have to live underground, and who were these enemies and how had they managed to make so many enemies? Instead I asked, "Does Leonardo really sleep on the couch a lot? I feel kinda bad using his bed."

"Yeah, he does," said Donatello. "I think he's standing guard even when he's asleep."

"Why?" I wondered.

Donatello looked back down at his book for a moment. I read the title, _The Tao of Physics. _He started to say something, looked up, smiled a little and said, " 'Cause Leo's like that." He had a real talent for explaining things in a way that left me with more questions.

Not having the answers, nor feeling comfortable enough to even ask the questions, was unsettling, but I was exhausted. I needed to sleep. I needed to take my jeans off and not worry about being modest in front of turtles._ They're not even human_, I told myself, but I didn't believe it, no matter what they looked like. In the back of the room, Raphael snored loudly. I sat down on the edge of Leonardo's futon, facing away from the two turtles, and as quickly as I could peeled off the jeans, kicking them onto the floor. I unbuttoned my green flannel, slipped it off, and in panties and undershirt slid under the thin blanket. I knew they were both staring at me. As casually as I could manage I said, "Good-night, you guys."

"G'night," they said.

It was ok under the blanket. I felt warm, and safe enough. In many ways I felt safer than I could remember in a long time. I fell asleep quickly.

****

I awoke with a start, my heart pounding, frightened, not knowing where I was. There was something I had to do-or prevent-what was I dreaming?

All around me rose and fell a sea of snoring. In the darkness a yellow light reflected off dark shellbacks. I remembered where I was, but the anxiety was oppressive. I had woken up with the same fear and terrible helplessness around my heart every morning since Rose had disappeared. I knew that feeling well, but this was something else besides.

I sat up, I had to move. Next to me Donatello's eyes flashed open and glinted in the light.

"Where's the..I need to use the ...uh..." I whispered.

"Through the kitchen, on the right." He watched me get up, pull my flannel shirt around me and trip over several items on the floor as I headed out to the other room.

By the light of the VCR I could see Leonardo, snoring as loud as the rest, his shell rising and falling, one arm spilled out onto the floor. His sheathed swords leaned against the end of the couch. My heart was still pounding. There was something ominous, something wrong...I tip-toed behind the couch as quietly as I could and Leonardo abruptly sat up. I nearly fell into the table.

"Lia-?" he whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "I just need to uh, you know..."

"Through the kitchen, on the right." He lay back down, and rolled over.

"Thanks." These guys were really light sleepers. I crept around the back of the couch, through the kitchen and found the bathroom, complete with a Mickey Mouse night light. A lot of the wiring seemed to be outside the walls, along with the plumbing, which happily worked fine. There was also a dripping shower stall and several hooks stuck in the walls to hold towels. Upon closer examination they turned out to be Chinese throwing stars.

At the entrance to the living room I paused, and waited a moment, listening. Leonardo's breathing was heavy and regular. I carefully stepped around the couch and sat down in the over-stuffed chair next to it, watching him.

I looked around the room. The weapons hanging on the walls were ornate versions of the ones the turtles carried, and there were others, too. What kind of "warriors" were these guys? Their names were Italian, their sensei was undoubtedly Japanese, and their enemies were evidently Japanese as well. Ninja-what's a Ninja, anyway? Before the word had been popularized by comic books and low-budget martial arts movies...Ninja were not like the Samurai of ancient Japan, who adhered to a strict code of conduct. Ninjas were...assassins. Their services went to the highest bidder, and they often had several identities. Where I knew that from I couldn't remember, some book of Alex's, doubtless one of the books I wasn't supposed to read, but had snuck into my room with the other "forbidden" stuff. It certainly seemed that the information I wasn't supposed to have, proved the most useful. Belladonna had confirmed that for me.

Ninja...I gazed around the room again, wondering, my eyes falling on Leonardo's twin swords. I remembered the blood spurting from my captor's hand as I fell from his grasp... my dream! I had dreamt of blood, swords, masked faces, people not being who they appeared. Who were these creatures I had found in the hidden underground of the city? Whatever my dream was trying to tell me it was far below the surface, in the depths of my mind...

"Having trouble sleeping?" asked the dark form on the couch. I must have jumped three feet. I supposed he had been awake the whole time.

"Yeah," I whispered. " I haven't slept very well lately," which was true.

"You're worried about her, huh?"

"Yes." My voice barely left my lips. It was so hard to talk about what was really going on. It was like if I spoke of it, it made it all too real.

"I know," said Leonardo softly. "We had a family member missing, too. And it's hard not to think about them the whole time they're gone."

"Did you find...did they come back?" I asked.

"Yeah. There were times when we feared the worst, but we found him, alive and well."

"Who was it?"

"Splinter."

"Oh, my...that must have been awful for you. How do you...how did you keep going?"

Leonardo propped up on one elbow. "We had to keep our faith in him. And in ourselves. The greatest strength we had was what he had taught us."

I know I was feeling emotionally raw, reacting so strongly to everything. Something in what he said tore right into me and I started crying again. I hoped he didn't notice. I was going to have to have faith in them, too, because I couldn't seem to muster any in myself.

"Lia," said Leonardo after a moment. "Tell me about the magic. Did this guy use magic when your daughter was abducted? Is that how he did it?"

"I think so. It's hard to say sometimes. It can be very subtle, the kind of magic he does."

"What kind of magic does he do?"

"He does spells, invoking natural, and unnatural forces, and bends them to his will. He uses other people's energy to gain power. He can get inside a person's mind, and control their thoughts."

"How does he do that?"

"He finds a weak place. A small place where a person is hungry, or needs something, so they will let him in, without recognizing the threat. Sort of like how a virus works. Or a Trojan horse. Anyone who does not know their own mind is vulnerable."

"Hmh." Leonardo seemed to be gazing off into some far corner of the room. "So being very centered, and clear about one's intention would be very important."

"Know thyself," I said. "But, I don't mean to imply that I can do that. I know how far short of that I fall."

He was quiet again for a long time. I realized he was looking at me. "Splinter says that knowing how little you know is the first step towards wisdom," he said. He watched me silently in the dark a few moments longer. "It's late. You should try and get some sleep. We'll be leaving in a couple of hours."

"Ok," I was feeling very tired now. I stood up and sighed. "Goodnight Leonardo."

" 'Night, Lia," he said, settling back down. "Hey, Lia?"

"Yeah?" I paused.

"You can call me Leo."

"Ok. Goodnight, Leo."


	5. Chapter 5

I stumbled along behind the four turtles, stupid with lack of sleep, and numb with the cold from my still-wet jeans. The sewers were pitch black. I was aware of the difference in their attitudes. There was a tension in their postures, and a purposefulness in how they moved. Back in full battle gear they were an intimidating, presence.

We emerged half a block from the Broderick, the hotel I had checked into the morning before. It may have been three a.m., but there was still traffic, and the street was lit up bright as day with street lights and glittering buildings.

"Ack-too well lit!" said Donatello as he helped me up from the storm drain. We hurried into the shadows of the canopy in front of a little cafe tucked between larger businesses.

"Jeez, ya couldn't a' picked some place a little less upscale, could ya?" complained Raphael, gazing up at the sleek building.

"My agent-" I started to explain, but was shushed by Leonardo.

"Which one is it?" Leonardo asked me, indicating the wall of glass and concrete with it's orderly array of windows, some lit, most dark.

I tried to fight down my sudden panic. How could I tell from the outside which one of these identical cubicles was mine? "Well, it's 403, and uh, I can see that sign from the window..." Cars hissed past us, headlights gleaming along the wide boulevard as we crouched in the doorway of the cafe. "So, if the stairwell is at the south end, and the elevator is...um. I think it's that one, fourth row up, third from the left. There. That's it."

"O.K., good, we've got a balcony to work with anyway," said Leonardo. " Here's what we'll do: Lia, you just go on in, and go up to your room. Take your time to give us a chance to get up there. As soon as you're in your room, lock the door and let us in from the balcony, ok?"

"How are you going to get up there?" I asked, incredulous.

"Don't worry about that, just be sure to let us in."

I must have looked very doubtful still. Michaelangelo abruptly dropped to one knee, taking my hand in his. "_With Love's light wings will I overperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold Love out-"_

"You read Shakespeare?" I asked.

"Nah, but I saw that movie six times..." he grinned.

"Let's go," said Donatello. "This is not a good spot to hang out for too long."

XXXX

I waited for a moment at my door, listening. I glanced up and down the plush carpeted hall. No one was around. I put the key in the door and opened it, reaching in to turn on the light switch by the door. It didn't work, but the light from the hall illuminated the room enough to see the inside.

"Omigod!" The room was in shambles; chairs tipped over, the desk dumped out, the mattress and blankets torn from the bed onto the floor. My first impulse was to run back out, but I knew my new friends were waiting on the balcony outside the sliding glass door.

I should always remember to go with my first impulses.

I took three steps into the room, and heard the door slam behind me, momentarily plunging me into blind darkness. Someone behind me-? Then the light on the bed stand came on. Between me and the balcony window stood five men. One of them was Alexander Skylord.

I stopped dead, immobilized with shock.

"Well, Lia, my dear, it certainly has been a long time," came the familiar low, rumbling voice.

"Alex..." I croaked.

He unfolded his arms and pushed away from the dresser where he had been leaning. He was enormous, even taller and more massive than I remembered him. His blond hair flowed down his back. A deep purple robe, like an oversized smoking jacket draped to his knees, and he wore some kind of black pajama trousers. He needed only a necromancer's pointed hat to make the picture complete. The other men were dressed in white martial arts uniforms, belted in black.

"So, how have you been, Lia? Healthy and well, I trust? And what is it you have been doing these past three years?" Alex examined his nails for a moment. "I understand you've been dabbling in writing lately?"

I knew that slow, even-paced tone of voice that was meant to intimidate and frighten me. It was working. I couldn't breath. Some part of my mind fought back. _Not this time, Alex,_ I thought, despite the fact I was shaking,_ not this time..._

"Oh?" He smiled mockingly. "That's very good, Lia. I can feel you trying, feeble though it may be. Actually, Lia, you are _very_ trying. Did you really think you could take pot shots at me and not pay the price? Did you think I wouldn't know? Have you forgotten I am there, inside of your mind, always?" His face darkened. "Foolish Lia."

I didn't dare look at the balcony window for fear of revealing too much. Where were they? Did they get jumped by someone else? Were they just kidding about climbing up to the balcony? Had they simply left? I tore my eyes away from Alex's and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, gathering everything I had left inside me.

"Where's my daughter, Alex?" I asked, fighting the quaver in my voice. "Where's Rose?"

Alex smiled slowly, a thin, satisfied smile. "Our sweet little child is perfectly safe...for now. The future of course, depends entirely upon you."

I went cold inside. I looked back into his eyes; they were dancing with a familiar sadistic glitter. I remembered being thrown against the walls, and being struck, and knowing I couldn't stop him. I remembered my own horrified realization that Alexander Skylord knew no restraint, once he launched into one of his blind rages.

"No," I whispered. "Not Rose..." I was once again alone and utterly powerless, the helpless child facing Alex. And he could do whatever he wanted.

He snapped his fingers and the two men flanking him moved forward and grabbed my arms. Alex moved menacingly toward me.

"Oh no..."

For a split instant Alex paused and half-turned toward the window-

-as it exploded into the room and four green forms crashed through the tangle of ripped draperies and shattered glass-!

"Hai-yah!" shouted the flying turtles.

"Yaaaaah-ack!" cried Alex's frightened men.

On my left Leonardo came down on one man with a bone-crunching kick. Another fell beneath his fists. To my right I heard the dull thuds and groans as two other men fell before Michaelangelo. I ducked and twisted around to see, and someone lifted me and threw me on the ruins of the bed; I have no idea who. Over by the door was a crack and a thump of another battle, and I turned in time to see one more man slump to the ground at Donatello's feet. A strange sort of silence followed. Six men in karate gi's lay crumpled on the floor. Alex was not among them. I sat on the bed, wide-eyed and breathing hard.

Raphael sat in the middle of the floor between the shattered glass doors and the bed, looking dazed. He looked around, shook his head and leaped up. "Where is he?" He turned toward the window and back. "I was _on him!_ Where'd he go?!"

Leonardo leaped at the closet, ripping the door off entirely in the process. "Uh, well, not in here..."

"Not under here..." said Michaelangelo, looking under the bed.

Donatello tore the remains of the drapes and stepped out onto the balcony. "Not here..."

"I was _on _him!" Raphael's confusion was turning to fury. He looked at me accusingly.

I shrank back a little. "Hey, I don't have him..."

"Well, maybe we can still catch him-" began Leonardo. Raphael leaped onto the balcony and was half airborne when Leonardo caught him by the belt.

"Grrrrr!" snarled the furious Raphael. "Dammit Leo! What're you doin'?"

"Lia, are you alright?" asked Leonardo, his eyes on Raphael..

"Just great," I grinned, suddenly realizing I was ever so grateful to be alive.

"Say, you know," suggested Donatello. "We really ought to tie these guys up before we have to knock 'em all out again."

"Yep..." Michaelangelo yanked the curtain pull free and tossed it to him.

"Leo-what the hell-?" Raphael was looking threateningly between Leo's face and the hand that gripped his belt.

"We need a plan. Hold on!" Leonardo looked at the others. "Don, can you stay and help Lia get her stuff back home? You can meet up with us afterwards."

"Roger."

"Mike, you and I can fan out southward, while it's still dark. We'll meet at Battery Tunnel, and cross over to-you know-"

"Gotcha!" Michaelangelo was bent to his task, ripping a corner of a sheet and tying a gag around the mouth of the man he had hog-tied. His impersonal efficiency-all of their impersonal efficiency- in dealing with Alex's defeated students was disturbing to watch.

Raphael was bristling, _"And...?!"_ he demanded.

"And you," said Leonardo, releasing Raphael's belt. "You might want to convince one of these goons to tell us where Lia's kid is hidden, assuming we don't find her tonight."

"Ah." Raphael cracked his knuckles.

I knelt next to Donatello where he worked and handed him a likely looking lamp. "Why Raphael?" I asked softly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Donatello jerked the cord out of the lamp and bound the last man's wrists. "C'mon, let's get your things together. You don't want to be here for this."

"What's he gonna do?"

"Scare the wits out of these poor suckers, that's all."

"He's not going to hurt them, is he?"

"Let's go. Where's your stuff?"

I gathered up as much of my paper work as I could and stuffed my clothes back into my suitcase as best I could. I looked around the room. There was not a piece of furniture or fixture that had not been turned over or destroyed. "Don," I said. "I know what they were after. My manuscript."

"Did they get it?"

"No. I've had it. It's been in my backpack."

"Hey," Donatello pulled my guitar case out of the closet. "Is this yours?" he grinned.

"Yeah..."

"Cool fer days..." He hefted it over his shoulder with my suitcase and his staff. "Ok, let's get outta here."

Raphael was crouched on the floor, nose to nose with one of the prisoners. The young man was making low, groaning noises, trying to come to. "Ok, you scumbag," said Raphael in a low tone. "I sure hope you talk better than you fight."

We stepped out onto the balcony. The lights of the nighttime still glittered, but the traffic was picking up below, buses and taxis and cars singing the song of the early morning commute. To the east the sky was lightening, sooty red streaks over the dark silhouetted skyline.

Donatello pulled a four-pronged steel hook and a length of slender rope from where it was looped through his belt. He swung it around and tossed it, hooking an overhead fire escape railing on the adjacent building, 20 feet from where we stood. Still holding my suitcase and guitar, he swung out on the rope between the buildings and up to the platform.

"Nice." I called to him. "Now what? Are you gonna call me a cab?"

"Hold on," he called back down. He set my things down, tugged on the rope to check the hook, took two steps back and took a running leap back to my balcony. I stared at him, wondering how he did that.

"Come on," he said.

""What?" I asked warily.

He tossed his head in the direction of the fire escape.

"No..." I shook my head.

"Come on," he was still smiling a little encouraging smile. "Grab a hold. I'll take you over."

I looked at him, and knowing I shouldn't have, glanced down at the street, four stories below. The cars were very small. I felt lightheaded.

"Look, uh, I know this probably not what you're used to, but, this is how we have to get out of here," he explained, holding open one arm. "Come on now. You can trust me. I'm not gonna drop you."

I swallowed, tried not to think, and put my arms around his neck, my left arm kind of lodging between the back of his neck and the top ridge of his shell. He gripped my waist with his free arm, stepped back and leaped out across open space. For an instant, the wind was in my face, and then, with a soft metallic clang, we landed on the fire escape platform. My legs nearly gave way, and I clutched onto him for a moment, shaking.

"Sorry," I managed to say breathlessly, finally letting him go.

"No, don't be. I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry we had to do it that way." he said. "We'll stick to terra firma from now on. You ok?"

"I'm O.K.," I gasped. "I'll probably stop shaking in a month."

Donatello shot me a crooked grin. "You did alright. Humor is still intact. That's a good sign."

I grinned weakly back at him.

XXX

Once down in the protective cavern of the sewer I actually felt better, almost happy. As we sloshed along through the cold water I wondered if Leonardo and Michaelangelo might have already found Rose. Even if they hadn't, Raphael was going to know where to look. I had confronted Alex, and not been killed-owing of course entirely to the timely appearance of four green warrior reptiles. I giggled to myself giddily and wondered what in the world Alex must have thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Three miles away, in an underground parking lot, a black stretch limousine idled under the artificial light. The chauffeur dozed in the driver's seat, and in the back, veiled in cigarette smoke, Alexander Skylord sat and pondered. He was angry and troubled. Where could his child-bride have possibly found such powerful help? She had always been so helpless, so easy to control. Those were the qualities that made her so perfect for his purposes. He doubted she had yet tapped into that other potential he had recognized in her years ago. It seemed unlikely she yet knew who she was, she was still far too young. There's still time, he thought, to bend her undeveloped talents to serve him, and the Brotherhood. He had fully believed that despite this absurd literary attempt to attack him, she would easily fall under his control again.

What had happened? How did she manage to get those beings to come to her aid, and even more important, what in the world were they? Skylord was certain they were flesh and blood, not some conjured thought form, or demons from the spirit world. They were certainly substantial; the one that landed on him weighed at least 170 pounds. And as far as he was able to penetrate that one's mind, even if only for the brief instant necessary for him to make his escape, he had sensed an ordering and structure similar, if not identical, to a human mind. There was intelligence to match the physical prowess, and despite a high level of emotionality, an unexpected element of discipline and control. Skylord had only a moment to observe the fighting abilities of these creatures, but he knew immediately his students were no match. If he was going to have to fight them, he was going to have to enlist some outside help.

Skylord remapped his priorities: first, to stop the publication of Lia's book. He smiled to himself. The steps he had taken toward that end were already set in motion, and that endeavor could prove to be deliciously entertaining. Skylord inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs. His second intention, was to reclaim Lia as his wife and servant. That would certainly eliminate any future rebellion against him. His trump card was, of course, little Rose, the daughter he had only recently learned about. How he would decide to use her would unfold in time.

What was of immediate concern was what stood between himself and Lia, and that was these four strange green body guards. They would have to go.

Skylord took another long drag on the cigarette. If such creatures exist in physical reality, someone must know about them. And if they were, as it appeared, warriors of a high level of skill and training, there was a reason for that. Those who walk the warrior path must, by their nature, have enemies. Skylord would find their enemies.

He leaned forward and pressed the intercom button. His chauffeur jerked to life.

"I'll be going upstairs now, James," he told his driver. "Be ready at 7 a.m."

"Yes, sir," James leaped from the limousine, opened the door for Alexander Skylord, who got out, and without a glance to left or right, strode to the elevator.

XXX

I followed behind Donatello through the cold, wet, labyrinth beneath the streets. Above us we could hear the traffic, the low roar of the city coming to life. He stopped under a storm grate, some five feet over our heads, and set my suitcase and guitar down.

"Are they getting heavy? I asked. "Do you want me to take one?"

He laughed. "No, no, they're not heavy." Donatello looked up through the grate at the pale patch of light, a small rectangle of sky above him. "I just like the morning light." His tone was almost sad. Bands of light and shadow from the storm grate fell across his face. In the sunlight his eyes shone a pale, golden-green.

I thought of all the beautiful pink and gold dawns, bright blue skies and soft fresh breezes I knew at home. "It must be hard having to live down here..."

"Yeah. Sorta." He leaned against the concrete and brick wall behind him, still gazing up at the barred view of the sky. "We lived above for a while in an apartment. And for a year in the old farm house. That was nice."

I wanted to ask him what happened. He answered my unasked question in his customary manner. "Those were really the worst of times and the best of times. Oh well, let's get going. We need to meet the others and make sure everyone made it back now that it's light." He picked up my suitcase and we moved off into the gloom again.

"Donatello..." I started.

" 'Don'," he said. "Everyone but Splinter just calls me Don."

"Ok, Don," I said , feeling encouraged. "You know, there are really a lot of things I want to ask you. I don't want to be nosy, but..."

"Hmm?"

"Well, what _are_ you?"

He glanced at me sidelong, a little half-smile on his face. With the driest hint of humor he answered, "Ninja turtle."

"Ninja turtle..." I repeated and swallowed. Ok. So these guys really were Ninja. This was a question I think I hadn't really wanted the answer to, though I knew I had to know the truth. I thought of Raphael back in my hotel room with Alex's students. " 'Ninja', as in 'hired assassin'?" I asked.

Donatello stopped and turned to look at me. Any trace of humor was gone. "Sometimes," he said evenly.

I felt a chill inside. "Don, if I knew I wouldn't ask. I'm not sure what that word means. All I have to go on are some bad B movies."

"Did you ever watch any of those movies?"

"No."

"Good. I wouldn't want you to have a bad opinion of us." He sounded hurt and cynical.

"Oh, dear...I didn't mean...Don-"

"_Ninja,_" he said between clenched teeth, "as in Honorable Warrior Clan."

"Oh." I felt awful.

"Maybe you have a little better idea why we live underground." His tone softened. "Even if our appearance wasn't so strange, the upper world folks would never understand us. People would just respond to the stereotype with fear."

I looked down. "Don, I'm sorry. I'm ignorant of all this stuff. I never meant to insult you."

"I know that. And you didn't insult me. It's not like you said anything inaccurate." He shook his head. "I didn't mean to snap at you, either. Y'know, I'm not usually that touchy." He shrugged apologetically. "Heh. That's Raph's job."

I felt a little relieved. "About Raphael...is he always that, uh..."

"Intense? Yeah, unless he's sleeping."

We walked on a little further, as I tried to assimilate the new information. I wondered if I dared venture another question. Curiosity won out.

"Uh, Don, I'm almost afraid to ask, but..."

"Go ahead," he half-turned back to smile at me. "Ask me. I won't bite."

"Ok. You've told me what you are, but are you guys, like, from somewhere else?"

"You mean like Alpha Centura? No. Brooklyn, I think."

"Brooklyn? But you don't look like any turtles, or people, or...well, anyone I've ever met before."

"No. We're mutants."

"Mutants? You mean like mutations?" In my mind Walt Disney mutated into Isaac Asminov.

"Yeah. This is a long story, but I'll try to summarize it. We four started our lives as ordinary pet store turtles. Splinter was a pet rat whose owner-ah, well, that's another story. But anyway, we came into contact with a mutagenic _s_ubstance down in the sewer. This is how it affected us." He stopped and turned to me. "Splinter's rapid mental growth enabled him to recall things he had been exposed to while a pet, and when we were old enough to understand, he began teaching us everything he knew of life, and of Ninjutsu, the Way of the Invisible Warrior. He raised us, taught us skills that would enable us to survive in a world that was certain to reject us. Splinter gave us our names, our identities, and our sense of purpose. It is to him we owe everything."

"Wow..." was all I could murmur. Despite the hardship I could see they were all living under, I felt a little envy at the bond that held them all as a family. Until Rose and Belladonna had come into my life, I had not felt any sense of family in a very long time.

We sloshed on again. "Don," I said. "Despite, uh, you know, how you look, and everything you've told me, I'm having a hard time thinking of you as anything but human. I mean," I quickly amended. "everything that is good and positive about being human. Do you feel human inside?"

Donatello slowed a little. "I don't know," he said. "I only know what it feels like to be me. But I think you scratch the surface of any sentient being and you're going to find the qualities of heart, strength, and compassion. It's just the individual's level of development that determines their articulation."

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at his back, with the long wooden staff thrust into his leather belt, his shell with it's geometric patterns, the fabric mask around his head, with the loose ends fluttering over his shoulders. He looked back at me and grinned. "Right?"

Who _were _these guys? The puzzle only seemed greater every time I learned something new about them. "I know you're right." I said and thought for a moment. It seems we humans think we are so unique, we truly believe we are the crown of creation. We are the measure against which we judge all other forms of life we encounter. "And you know, Don, it would be typical human arrogance that would make people see you as a novelty that had somehow 'caught up' with them."

"And it is precisely those people we must fear the most," agreed Don. "It's the scientists, biological researchers who would put us under a microscope for dissection in the name of knowledge, and at the expense of wisdom."

"Good Lord..." I said. The thought was horrifying.

"It's a shame, too. I love science."

XXX

I sat on the overstuffed chair, twisting a strand of hair around my fingers, waiting. Splinter sat on the blue couch, watching "Good Morning America." I was trying not to worry about Rose, and what was going to happen, and wondering if the turtles had found her yet. Don had gone back out to find the others since it was already 6.a.m. I jumped every time the faucet dripped or the fridge started up.

Splinter watched me. "I understand your agitation," he said. "I too, have been separated from my children, not knowing what had become of them. I know of no circumstance more painful."

"They'll find her, won't they, Splinter?" I couldn't keep myself from asking.

"They are committed to this task. And they will not cease until it is accomplished."

It wasn't an absolute 'yes', which of course, he couldn't give me. I couldn't stand the sitting and waiting. "Splinter, can I get you something to eat?" I offered.

"I'm afraid there is very little left to eat just now. Are you hungry, child?"

"No, I'm not, thank you." It occurred to me that without their human friend, April, Splinter and the turtles probably did not have much opportunity to shop for groceries, to say nothing of finding the money with which to buy anything. They certainly couldn't raise vegetables as I had done for the past three years. Not underground. "Splinter," I said. "After the guys get back, I'll do some shopping, ok?"

"That would be most kind, Lia. Here..." Splinter got up and padded to a wooden cabinet over which a pair of crossed swords hung on the wall. He rummaged in two little straw baskets for a moment. "This is all we have at the moment," he said handing me a twenty dollar bill and two ones.

"Oh no, Splinter, I'll buy the groceries-"

"Take it," he said firmly. "You have no idea how much my sons are capable of eating."

There was a creak and a thump in the entry passage, and voices. I jumped, and turned around. "Leo- Raphael-! Is Rose-? Did you -?" I stopped . Leonardo met my gaze and shook his head. They filed in quietly. "Did you find-?"

"Not yet, Lia, " he said. "We didn't find her yet. My guess is she isn't at the dojo. We searched the whole place and it was empty."

"Oh." My throat ached. "Raphael-?" I almost whispered, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.

Raphael flopped down in the big chair. "Cops broke in on me," he said, not looking at me. "Some jerk must have complained about the noise in the room. I barely got out without being seen. The two guys who were conscious didn't know anything about any little girls. I got it that your Alexander Skyjack has a penthouse apartment upper eastside. No address."

"Oh."

"Wonder what those guys will tell the police about _you_", muttered Donatello.

"Hey, it won't be the first small-time hoodlum to start babbling about giant green turtle monsters," chuckled Michaelangelo, heading for the kitchen.

"Cops probably already think these stories have something to do with some new street drug. Hyuk hyuck!" Raphael settled back further in the chair snickering.

I took a deep breath, not yet trusting my voice. Leonardo had perched on the arm of the couch, next to Splinter. He must have seen the look on my face. "Hey," he said softly. "It's the first day. Don't worry. We've got some more information. We're going back out tonight."

I nodded and swallowed. I had to focus on what I needed to do next. I needed to check in with my publisher, let her know I was here, even though I was no longer in the trashed hotel room the company had paid for. And I had said I'd go out for groceries.

"Ok," I announced. "I'm going out shopping. You guys want to tell me what you eat besides pizza?"

They had lots of suggestions. I pulled out my notepad and using the TV. as a table top, began making a list. I dreaded trying to figure out the public transportation systems in New York with armloads of groceries, but I was willing to try.

"Ok," I said at last. "So, the last four things I've got here are butter, peanut butter, teriyaki sauce, and pork rinds? Pork rinds? Are you sure? Yech." I was planning in surprising them with lots of fresh fruit and vegetables.

"Here," Raphael stood and crossed over to the TV., took my pen and scrawled _Miller Draft-6 pack._ "Black label," he said, very low.

My eyes widened. "Really?" I looked at his crooked grin, as he glanced back to see if the others had heard. Mike and Don were loudly discussing the merits of Hershey's syrup over Nestles. "I don't know if I can," I whispered. "Is the drinking age 18 or 21 in New York?"

"Twenty-one, I think."

"I can't do it, then."

"How old _are_ you?" Raphael frowned. That got everyone else's attention.

"Well, my I.D. says I'm twenty, but I'm really eighteen. Almost."

"Eighteen, _almost_?" Leonardo looked at me with a faintly amused smile, and then at his brothers. "You're not any older than us, then."

"So, how old are you guys?"

"Seventeen."

"Wait a minute," Donatello frowned a little. " Lia, if you're only seventeen, how old is your daughter?"

"She's just two," I lifted my chin. "Go on, you guys have enough fingers to figure it out," I said defensively.

"No offense intended," said Don quickly. "I-I just thought you were older. I mean, you don't look older, you look younger, actually. I mean, not in a bad way-you look good, I mean...not that I'm looking-I mean-agh-"

"Smooth, Donnie. Hey, can I take lessons from you?" said Raphael, delighting in Donatello's discomfort.

On the couch, quietly observing all this, Splinter raised his nose and spoke. "I would imagine that the responsibilities of motherhood would hasten the maturing of a young girl. But it would seem, Lia, that you have not had much time to be a child yourself?"

I looked down and scrawled little circles in the margin of my shopping list. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable again. "I guess so..." I mumbled.

"You know, there's something else I need to ask you," said Leonardo. "While we were out on your balcony, before we broke in, we heard Skylord call Rose 'our child'. Is that correct? Is Skylord Rose's father?"

I looked at him. His mask was pulled down, and those strange, light-colored eyes were wide and questioning. I took a breath and nodded.

They looked at one another. I was afraid of what they might be thinking, afraid of where this was going. Splinter cleared his throat. "Lia," he said softly. "Come and sit here a moment." He patted the couch between himself and Leonardo. I walked over woodenly and sat down. "It would perhaps be helpful to all of us," he said in the gentlest of tones, "if we could be told the whole story."

I looked down at my hands and bit my lip, feeling trapped. I couldn't tell them the bad parts. I didn't think they could understand all the things I had done. I had an impulse to get up and run out the door. "Where do you want me to begin?" I asked, studying my rings.

"At the beginning," said Raphael predictably. He leaned against the TV., clicking my pen.

Donatello came slowly around from behind the couch, looking thoughtful. "You said you ran away from home, and that's how you fell in with these people. I'd like to know why you ran away from home. You could start there."

Michaelangelo, with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, settled on the floor by the coffee table, looking expectant.

Oh, dear Goddess, what am I supposed to say? I looked up at the arched ceiling of carefully mortared brick and rock. "Ok," I said. "I had this friend named Samuel. He was a college student, and even though I was only a high school freshman, he wanted to help me. He was involved in Alex's school. I...uh...I wasn't doing too well in high school. I was mostly hanging out in the park with my friends. Well, they were sort of my friends. They were all a little older than me and I wasn't into all the stuff they were, like drinking and smoking pot. The way I fit in was by playing guitar and singing. Anyway, Sam thought that I'd be ok if I went to San Francisco with him, to Alex's school. And one day, I did." I knew I hadn't answered the question.

"What about your parents, Lia?" asked Splinter.

I shook my head. "My dad had left my Mom when I was twelve. Mom didn't do very well, either, after that. She just sort of fell apart. He...he said he'd come back and visit me, but...he didn't..." I had to stop. I looked down again. I didn't want to cry again. Everything was making me cry. I took a shaky breath and tore at a finger nail. "Anyway, we moved around a lot that first year, until we moved in with, um, Mom's new boyfriend. That was really bad..."

"What happened?" asked Michaelangelo.

"He and my Mom were really into drugs and I...I just couldn't stay there. And I couldn't go to anyone for help because he said if I did, Mom would be arrested and I'd be taken away anyway, so I just tried to stay away from home."

"What did your Mom do when you didn't come home?" asked Donatello.

"Nothing. I really think it was easier for her not to have me there..." _Just say it_. "Ok. The real truth is, I ran away lots of times, and every time, my mom's boyfriend came and found me." I looked at Splinter. "I really don't want to talk about this, ok? Please?" He nodded thoughtfully, watching me. "I know I should have stayed, and tried to help my Mom...I just...the thing is, he was the reason I ran away, and when Sam said he could take me somewhere that I'd be safe, and no one would find me, it sounded like a pretty good idea."

I stopped. Leonardo stood and went into the kitchen for a moment, returning with a glass of water. He handed it to me and settled back on the couch arm rest. "What happened after that? What's the story with the Brotherhood?" he asked. "That's really what we need to know about." I looked up at him, sipping the water. Sitting this close I could finally see the color in his eyes. They were a light, ice blue, with a pattern like broken crystal. "Look," he said. "We can see this hard, but there may be something in what you tell us that can help us. Ok?"

I had the feeling Leonardo was not about to back down. "Ok," I said. "So, there I was, in the school, and...um... Alex started paying a lot a of attention to me. Taking me aside to show me stuff, teach me things...You have to understand, he's like God to the Brotherhood. And I really thought he was a god. I had this terrible crush on him. I can't really explain this except I was thirteen and I thought I had met God incarnate. So when he asked me to marry him, what was I going to say? 'No, I think I'll wait for a better offer'?"

"You're _married_ to this guy?" Raphael's eyes widened.

I nodded quickly and took another sip of water. The water helped.

"Whoa..." breathed Mike.

"You said you were a 'special student.'," said Raphael. "Why didn't you just say you were married?"

My eyes were burning, I didn't want to cry, but he was going to push me there. "I don't know," I said. "I didn't know what you'd think..."

"Well, maybe now we think you're a liar." said Raphael bluntly.

I covered my face with my hands "It just sounded so stupid...'my husband kidnapped my daughter'...like..I don't know..."

"Jerry Springer?" suggested Michaelangelo helpfully.

"Ok, ok," said Leo. "No one's trying to make you feel bad." He shot Raph and Mike a scorching look. "Just tell us what happened."

I held my head and nodded. "Alex performed this ceremony he said would make me his wife for all time and into as many future lifetimes as I could imagine. I don't think the state of California would recognize the marriage as legal, but I guess that's no problem for someone who doesn't legally exist."

I looked at Leo. He gestured for me to continue. I didn't want to. I didn't want to talk any more. It made it too real. Most of the time I could pretend a lot of these things never happened. Even after having written it all down, actually telling someone face to face was really hard.

"What else happened?" asked Leo.

" Well, I did learn a lot there, even though my reading was carefully controlled. At least, he tried to control my reading. I was supposed to read Alex's writings, and stuff like Nietzsche, Rudolph Steiner, Gurdjieff, Aleister Crowley...but I snuck into Alex's forbidden library and read lots of other stuff, too. I had to write in secret, too. I had written a lot of poetry and stuff before. I had written a lot of the songs I played. But Alex had forbidden me to sing or play guitar. He said I wasn't ready to do that, that I had to learn more first." I looked around at the five faces gazing at me. Raphael had tossed my pen down, and though his face was an immobile mask, his hands were moving, fists clenching and unclenching restlessly.

"Sounds like a major control freak..." said Mike.

"What else?" asked Leo.

"At first, it seemed like it was very good. I think he..." I looked down at my water glass. "I think he really loved me. He said he did..." I shrugged. I didn't want to feel that feeling, either. "I noticed he tended to really go after people with money, or kids whose parents had money. And here I was, nobody with nothing, so maybe I thought I was special...But then it got bad, and it kept getting worse. Alex became more and more violent. Not just toward me. He hurt a lot of people...He can be utterly ruthless. And he became more and more demanding. He wanted...uh..." I closed my eyes, my hands fluttered as I pushed the thought away.

"What did he want?" pressed Leonardo.

"Rituals. He wanted me to do stuff in the rituals..." I looked up at Leonardo. "I can't talk about this."

"If you can try to, child," said Splinter on my other side. "It may help us to understand him, and to aid in tracking him down."

"You mean in the magic rituals? He wanted you to do things with the magic?" Leonardo was trying to catch my eyes again.

I looked down. Why did they want the awful details? There was a long silence. Donatello shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Michaelangelo fidgeted.

"Oh for cryin' out loud!" Raphael burst out. "What did ya do, kill someone?"

He made me jump. "No, I didn't...ok. Here's what it is." I took another shaky, deep breath. "You know how every living being has internal energy, the kind you can't see?"

"Ki energy," nodded Splinter.

"And you know there are different energy centers, called chakras, right?" They nodded, I hadn't lost them yet. "Ok, well, Alex believed that all of life on this plane is a struggle to maintain energy, and that all conflict, human suffering, comes down to people trying to take each others' energy. He taught that the most important struggle is that feminine energy is always feeding off male energy, like how the moon has no light of it's own, but steals the sun's. He says that female energy is parasitic, and has to be controlled, in order for evolution to keep going on, otherwise everything would just stop and implode, or something. In other words, in order for life to go on, female energy has to be controlled by male energy, and used-"

"Do you believe that?" interrupted Donatello.

"No, I spent two and a half years with Belladonna unlearning and unbelieving most of what he taught." I ran my hand through my hair.

"What's all that b.s. got to do with the ritual stuff?" asked Raphael.

"Alex taught that the most powerful and creative energy is second chakra energy. That's what he wanted from me, to use my second chakra energy in the rituals, to make the magic, and him, more powerful." I bit my lip and waited.

"So, which one is the second chakra?" asked Michaelangelo.

Splinter raised a hand, stopping him. "I believe I understand," he said. Leonardo had closed his eyes, drawn a deep breath, and looked away. I guessed he understood. Splinter gently rested his hand on my shoulder. "And this is why you left the Brotherhood?"

"No, Splinter, " I turned to him. "I did everything he asked me to."

"You were a child. You must not blame yourself."

"I was raised Catholic. I knew right from wrong, and I did it anyway."

Splinter tipped his head, liquid brown eyes peered into mine. "You loved this man, did you not?" I nodded. "And you feared him as well?" I nodded again. "My child, you have done no wrong."

"That's what Belladonna said."

"And you should listen to your teacher," scolded Splinter gently, the corners of his mouth pulling back into a small smile.

Michaelangelo's eyes widened in mock earnestness. "_Always _listen to your teacher!"

"Alright," broke in Raphael. "So intimidation, brainwashing, violence and perverted magic rituals didn't bother you. What made you finally decide to leave?"

"I got pregnant." _Ok, just tell them everything now. They're going to think whatever they're going to think..._ "Alex didn't know. I didn't tell him. I didn't think where I was was any place to bring new life into. I waited till he was going to be away for a few days. Alex doesn't have bank accounts. He keeps a lot of cash in safes. I broke into one and stole a lot of money, and snuck out-"

Raphael snorted. "Maybe he just wants his money back."

I tried to ignore him. "I hitchhiked until I ran out of road, and then I walked until I found a cabin. It turned out to belong to Belladonna. She let me stay, and then midwifed Rose's birth. I'd have never made it without her. She taught me how to take care of my baby, and untaught me what I had learned from Alex. It's difficult because so many of Alex's lies were woven in the truth."

"Anyway, on Rose's first birthday I began writing my book. I had been living for almost two years without a phone, or power, or even running water. I began communicating with the outside world then, and found Adeline Jackson, who said she was interested in my book. I know, somehow, that's how Alex found me. That's how he... got Rose..." I looked down.

"How did it happen?" pressed Leonardo.

"Three months ago I was making plans to come out here to New York. Adeline wanted to get together face to face. I was out by the garden...Rose was over by the flower beds...she was only out of my sight for a minute...and then she was gone. She just disappeared, it was like the earth swallowed her up. I had no idea what had happened, the dogs didn't even bark. I ran around the cabin, and the gardens, and the pond, calling her name...it was awful...and then I realized what had happened. Alex had found me. It was so much his style. It would have been too easy to come after me. Much more effective to take the one thing I love most in the world..." I looked down, biting my lip hard, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. "You know the rest."

"Belladonna sent you here, to find us," said Leonardo.

"Yes." I wondered how they saw me now. I didn't think they'd back out; from what little I knew of them I was pretty sure they'd honor their word. I stared at the water glass in my hands. "So now you know what kind of a person I am..."

"What do you mean?" asked Michaelangelo.

I waved a hand. "You know..." I looked at Raphael. "A liar...a thief...complete screw-up..."

"Lia," said Donatello. "You've been through hell. No one is going to judge you."

"I don't know too many people," said Leonardo. "But I think what you just described would crush the spirit of a lot of folks, and you survived. I could never think less of someone for doing what they needed to survive. You have my respect."

"Really?" I was going to cry again-_criminy!_

"Hey, come on," said Michaelangelo. "We're your friends, Ok?'

I looked at each of them, even Raphael's expression looked a little softer.

"You do not need to be alone now, Lia," said Splinter.


	7. Chapter 7

The turtles retired to catch a few hours sleep. Before they left the room, I asked about the payphone stuck in the corner of the living room. I had originally taken it to be some sort of funk art, but Donatello assured me it worked fine, though it did require two quarters. "Phone company thinks it's still at the 38th street station," he told me.

I called Adeline Jackson and she sounded very glad to hear from me. She said she had been worried when I hadn't called and that she had wanted to have lunch with me, today if possible. She was happy with the last chapter I had sent her and was eager to meet me in person. That gave me a warm feeling inside, which only added to the warm feeling that finally came from the early morning conversation with the turtles and Splinter. It was taking a while to sink in, but I was realizing that despite everything I had told them about me, they accepted me. Maybe even cared about me. This was important,partly because I desperately needed them. But the other part was that even though I was worried about the Ninja aspect, and the violence I had already seen they were capable of, I really liked them.

I told Adeline I'd have to get back to her about lunch. The truth was, I had to wait for the turtles to wake up to help me navigate around the sewers. I still had no idea which part of New York I was underneath. I curled up on Splinter's couch and watched TV. with the volume off until I dozed off.

The sounds of kitchen clatterings awakened me. Raphael and Michaelangelo emerged from behind the beaded curtain with a box of cereal, a hunk of old-looking cheese, and half a bag of chips. I peered over the edge of the couch. "I guess it's time for me to go shopping."

"That, or the back alley diner of your choice," answered Raphael, his mouth full of chips.

"I don't think Lia's gonna like our usual method of food procurement," said Donatello, coming out of the sleeping passage with a small speaker in his hand. Like the others, he was out of uniform, unmasked and without gear. He sat down in front of one of several computer towers on the floor and began unscrewing a set of wires in the back. "I think I've figured out what's wrong with this thing..."

"How do you guys eat, anyway?" I asked, sitting up and stretching.

"Same way as anyone in this town without a paycheck," said Raphael.

"Dumpster diving," clarified Michaelangelo.

"Oh, no. Really?" I said without thinking.

"You got a problem with that?" challenged Raphael.

"No, no, of course not. It's just-"

"You can really score some great stuff," said Michaelangelo, shaking the box of Cap'n Crunch.

"I know...I mean, I imagine so, in a big city like this...all I meant was...oh, I just want to get you guys what you really want."

"You're not old enough to," said Raphael.

If he was trying to make me feel bad, he was succeeding.

"C'mon, Raph," said Michaelangelo. "Lighten up."

Leonardo came into the living room from the direction of what I took to be Splinter's room. "Hey," he said by way of greeting.

"S'up, Leo?" asked Michaelangelo.

"We need to talk about this proposed shopping trip," Leonardo came over and sat next to me on the couch. "The thing is, after this morning's encounter with Hulk Hogan, it's obvious he has a much better idea of Lia's whereabouts than we had hoped. And since we don't know how he came by this information, I think we need to be very cautious with where we let you go."

"Hulk Hogan?" I asked.

Leonardo's face slid into a half-smile.

"That's true," said Donatello from his corner on the floor. "There's that little market down in Chinatown. You know, the only one without dead ducks hanging in the window. We can cover both the front and rear doors at that place."

"There's something else I need to do, too," I said. "I need to make a luncheon date with Adeline, my publisher-"

"A _luncheon date?"_ repeated Raphael. "And what are we supposed to do, wait in the cab for you? Maybe sign autographs? What the hell is this, Leo? Didn't I tell you?" Raphael was on his feet and in two steps standing behind us. "Didn't I say this? In two weeks this place is gonna be crawling with nosy people, or cops, or somebody, and we are gonna be down the road, homeless again-" Raphael turned away, waving his arms. "Not that I mind, I like a challenge, a change of pace, a little variety to keep things from getting too boring!" He turned and slammed his hands on the back of the couch behind us. "Leo, are you listening to me?"

"It's a little hard not to, Raph," said Leonardo with a tone of studied patience.

"Lady," Raphael turned to me. "We are not on anyone's social registry, an' we don't do the frickin' Waldorf Astoria!" He turned away and stomped into the kitchen. "Maybe your publisher Adeline would like to go dumpster diving!" he shouted from behind the beaded curtain. Michaelangelo, having finished off the Cap'n Crunch, went to work on Raphael's bag of chips.

I looked back at Leonardo. I know my eyes were wide as saucers and my heart was pounding.

"Don't worry about him," Leonardo shook his head. "Some things just seem to set him off. But in all honesty, I don't know how you're going to be able to do that, meet her for lunch. I have my doubts about you going shopping. That deal at the hotel was pretty much a disaster. All those goons got a real good look. Don...?"

"Yeah, but we know that market, Leo," answered Donatello from his contorted position on the floor, one screwdriver in his mouth, another in his hand. "The main problem at the hotel was we didn't know the fourth floor was really the fifth floor..."

"I know, but that's not the point," said Leonardo. He leaned back and looked up. "I just have a bad feeling about this."

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Raphael coming back into the living room. "Leo's got a bad feeling so nowwebetter all pay attention! Never mind if any of us have bad feelings-"

"Come on, Raph," Leo returned, perhaps a little condescendingly. "Can we please try to work together on this thing?"

"Oh, yeah, Leo, oh yeah! And you are all of _that!_" Raphael left again, this time down the sleeping passage.

"Ok, Lia," Leonardo turned back to me. "What is it exactly you want to do?"

_Run and hide,_ was my first thought. Instead I asked, very quietly, "Why does he hate me so much?"

Leonardo started to say something, but Michaelangelo broke in. "He doesn't hate you. I think he likes you. He wouldn't mess with your head if he didn't like you." I turned to look back at him to see if Mike was now messing with my head. "Really," he said.

"Ok, shh," I whispered. "I don't want him to hear me."

"He's already heard you," said Leonardo. "Our hearing seems to be a little sharper than most people are accustomed to."

"Really"? I asked. "You think he heard me?"

"Yeah, he heard you," grunted Raphael, suddenly right behind us again. He came around, flopped down onto the over-stuffed chair next to me, and put his feet up on the coffee table.

"Where," asked Leonardo again, "are you supposed to meet for lunch?"

I looked at Raphael, afraid to say anything. His unmasked face was deadpan and betrayed nothing. To Leonardo I said, "Adeline mentioned the _Sinclair..._"

"Oh yeah," Leonardo ran a hand over his eyes. "That's up there...what? East 47th ?" He seemed tired.

"Ya know, Leo," said Donatello. "It's probably worth mentioning that one of the things that we agreed to do for Lia was make sure Skypilot doesn't stop her from completing her book. And if we're curtailing her actions out of over-caution, he's winning."

"Yeah, I think you're right, Don. I'm just trying to think how we're gonna do this. There's that culvert by the little pond, but there's still a block of downtown to cross..."

"No, no, look," Michaelangelo came over holding a tourist guide book. "It's right here, at the edge of the park-"

Raphael took the book from Mike's hands. "It's right here, across the street," he pointed. "And here's that storm drain by the restrooms. You remember those kids that time got stuck in there? There's a gardener's shed behind the fence here, an' the restrooms, plus trees with leaves. We can watch the front of the restaurant from here, or there, or lock ourselves in the men's room and watch from the windows. There. You all happy now?" He handed the book to Leonardo.

"Thanks, Raph," grinned Leo.

XXX

Adeline Jackson turned out to be strikingly beautiful; deep mahogany skin, sleek black hair, and startling light amber eyes. She wore a pale lavender business suit which made me feel frowzy in comparison in my one and only long skirt. We sat in the cool, quiet, restaurant overlooking Central Park, eating seafood salads and talking about my manuscript, and life in general.

"You have certainly been through a lot." Adeline looked out the window at the sharp, angular, skyline of Manhattan towering over the bright green of the trees below. "And you're still so young, with so much still ahead of you, career, family, all those possibilities." She smiled at me. "And you'll find a good man, if you want to, Lia."

"Oh," I shook my head. "No, I'm not looking."

"You don't think you'll get married again?" Adeline asked.

"No. Never." Of all my uncertainties, that was one thing I was sure of.

"Well, I understand. But you know, baby," Adeline reached her hand across the table and patted mine. "They're not all like him. There are good men out there. I'll tell you something, I was married to a good man, a wonderful man. He was lost in the Middle East, ten years ago, serving in the Marines, and I knew there would never be another man in my life. I just thought that part of my life was over. But you know, time does heal. And I have met someone, someone very interesting. And I don't know where it will go, but I know time does heal. Never say never."

I smiled at Adeline. "I'm happy for you," I said. "How did you meet him?"

"He's a writer. I meet a lot of writers," Adeline smiled back, her eyes alight.

XXX

Adeline Jackson took the elevator to the sixteenth floor of the Elizabeth Ford Building which housed the modest offices of JackDancer Publishing. Over the past ten years Adeline had built a reputation for her company by bringing a series of young and remarkably talented new writers to print. The primary genre she had worked in was fiction, and this book of Lia Hanrahan's was one of her first autobiographies, and certainly her first experience with metaphysics. Lia's style however, an unusual blend of poetry and prose, gave what could have been a very grim subject matter an almost dream-like quality. As Adeline had commented to the young writer, she was the living embodiment of her writing style: part fairy-child, part philosopher.

Adeline's secretary was not at the front desk, and no one appeared to be around. The door was unlocked and Adeline let herself in, thinking it odd that everything was left open. The computer's screen swam lazily with neon fish and the carved African masks stared sightlessly from the wall overhead.

Inside her bright office with it's huge picture window, rendering a close up view of more towering office buildings and their windows, Adeline threw her briefcase onto her desk. It felt so quiet, suddenly, without her secretary's music and conversation. Out of habit Adeline rolled her shoulders, feeling the tension in her neck and shoulders. She turned toward her window. This had been one busy week...

"Hi."

Adeline jumped with a cry and turned around "Oh! Oh my-!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you..."

"Oh, my God, Peter," Adeline pressed a hand over her heart. Her initial shock of hearing a man's voice in an office she thought was empty was replaced by the shock of seeing who it was. "I didn't hear you come in-"

"I am so sorry. I saw the door was open..." The tall, blond man before her looked abashed. "Well, I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to bring you these." He held out a bouquet of delicate blue and white flowers in a small crystal bowl. "And to thank you for the wonderful evening the other night."

"Peter, you are so sweet-oh, my those are Texas Bluebonnets! Where in the world in New York City did you manage to find Texas Bluebonnets?"

Peter shrugged non-commitally.

"Do you know," said Adeline taking the flowers, "when I was a little girl, I used to stay summers at my grandfather's ranch, and we picked Texas Bluebonnets, all of us girls..."

"Really?" asked Peter. He watched her as she gazed at the fragrant mass in her hands. "I was wondering if you know of any other nice restaurants? And if we might go to dinner again tomorrow night?"

"Now, you are in New York. If there's one thing we've got, it's nice restaurants." Adeline set the bowl on her desk.

"You'll be my guide, then?"

Adeline looked up at him, He was dressed in a casual suit, loosely cut, tie-less, long hair tied back in a ponytail. "I would love to," she smiled.

"Wonderful," Peter glanced around the office. "Well, look, I don't want to keep you, I know you're busy."

Adeline looked down at her desk. "Actually, I don't know how much more I'm going to get done today. I had a late lunch with one of my writers."

"Oh? Who?"

"Interesting young lady..." Adeline mused. "Delightful writer, really, with a fascinating story to tell."

"What's her name?" asked Peter lifting a geode paperweight on Adeline's desk. He smiled. "What makes her story so interesting? I've told you, I need all the help I can get."

"Well, have a seat, Peter, and I'll tell you about her."

"I've got a better idea. Let's go down to that bistro I saw on the corner, and you can tell me there."

Adeline smiled. "Twist my arm..."


	8. Chapter 8

If the underground trip all the way down to Chinatown and back was laborious, our arrival back at the turtles' home was a frenzied event. Finally being able to rip into the bags of groceries they had carried for miles was cause for celebration.

"Mmmm, let's see, what's in here," Michaelangelo sniffed, his whole face in one bag. "Ohh, mushrooms, and oh! Look! Granny Smiths!" He chomped noisily into an apple. Boxes, cans and bags of produce were heaped onto the low table, enough being opened and sampled I hoped there would be something left with which to make dinner. I pulled a white freezer bag out and tried to sneak it off to the fridge.

"Wait-wait a minute! Whatzat?" demanded Raphael. I let him take it and Mike snatched it from him.

"Hagen Daz!" he cried, peering into the bag. "You bought us Hagen Daz!" The look on Mike's face was worth a whole store of ice-cream.

I eased my way out from between the shells and watched them for a minute. It occurred to me with a pang of guilt, that while I had had a nice lunch at the _Sinclair_, these guys really had not eaten all day.

I had promised Adeline I'd call her later. I had had to tell her about the hotel being ransacked and while I left out four important details, I told her I knew it was Alex who had done it. The fact that Alex was in town worried her, and when she learned I was staying with people I had just met, she was very concerned. I think Adeline's interest in me was a not merely professional. I think maybe she really cared about what happened to me, too.

I called, not really expecting her to be in after 5 o'clock. Surprisingly, she was still in her office, and answered the phone herself. "Lia? Oh my goodness, Lia! Where are you, honey?"

"What's wrong?" I was alarmed at how distraught she sounded.

"Well, the police were here. They just left. They were looking for you."

"For me? Why?"

"Those men who broke into your hotel room, they were murdered, or killed, or something."

"Killed? Who was killed?"

"Some men. The men that were found tied up in your hotel are dead! And the police say you were seen by employees at the Broderick around three a.m. this morning. Is that right? Were you there?"

"How could they be dead?" I asked numbly. I looked over my shoulder. Leonardo and Raphael were settling down on the couch in front to the TV.

"Lia, listen to me," said Adeline. "Where are you? You need to go and talk to the police. One of the officers who was here left me a card with his number ."

"Um...Adeline, I'm going to have to call you back. I'm sorry about the police and the hassle and all..."

"Wait! Don't hang up. Where are you? What's your number there?"

"I...I'm at my friend's place..." I said. Leonardo was looking over at me quizzically, head cocked to one side.

"Lia, now, I want you to tell me," Adeline's voice was slow and deliberate. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Apparently..." I answered distractedly, looking at the two Ninja on the couch. "I mean, no, no, Adeline. I'm fine, I'm ok. Look, I'm going to have to call you back. Bye." I heard her protest as I hung up. My mouth was dry. I backed away from the phone.

"What's up?" asked Leonardo.

I held onto the frame of the phone booth to keep from shaking. "Well, there's kind of a problem..." I said, trying to sound calm. "Those men who were with Alex in my room, the police are saying they had been killed. The police are looking for me."

Raphael turned a hard gaze in my direction. "Those men were not killed."

"They said-"

"Lia," said Raphael slowly, as if I were a not very bright child. "The police broke down the door while I was still interrogating them. They were still yellin' when I jumped off the balcony. I mean, come on, they were tied up. What am I gonna-?"

"But they said-"

"Sshhht! Listen!" Leonardo pointed at the T.V.

"Police are searching tonight for a Lia Hanrahan of San Francisco, California," said the newscaster. "..wanted in connection with the deaths of six men found bound and gagged in a room at the Regency Broderick, early this morning." My picture, the one I had sent Adeline, flashed on the screen. "Ms. Hanrahan is 5'2", approximately 100 lbs, and twenty years of age. Police are asking anyone with any information to contact them."

"Oh my god..." I clung to the door of the pay phone, suddenly feeling dizzy. Donatello and Michaelangelo had come into the room from the kitchen, munching nacho chips. They stopped and looked at Raphael. Leonardo turned and looked at Raphael. I didn't want to, but I looked at Raphael.

"I didn't _kill _anyone!" Raphael exploded. Sweeping a book, a candle, and the remote off the end table across the room, he leaped up, and stormed past me, down the sleeping passage. His fists hitting the wall punctuated each step. Leonardo looked over at me. I was shaking now. I think Raphael's rage scared me more than what he may have done, or the fact that I may be wanted for murder.

"The issue isn't whether or not Raphael killed any of those men," said Leonardo, cool as ice. "He said he didn't, so he didn't. The issue is that apparently someone did, and the police think it was you."

I blinked. If Raphael didn't kill them, then who? I knew who.

"Alex..." I whispered. "Alex must have done it..."

"Killed his own students?" asked Donatello.

_"_Yes, to protect himself."

"And set you up?" added Leonardo.

Fear is like a physical sensation, like cold. Shaking, I moved back toward the couch, where it seemed warmer and safer somehow.

"But how? And when?" asked Mike. "We've covered 'who' and 'why', right?"

"This is serious, Mike," said Donatello.

"So am I," he answered, though he had recovered enough to eat another handful of chips.

Leonardo scratched his cheek. "You know, the newscast didn't say they were _found_ dead, it said 'bound and gagged'. Maybe your friend got it wrong-of course-They didn't die until afterwards, later today."

"Ok, we got 'when'. How about 'how'?" Mike crunched another chip.

"Poison?' suggested Donatello.

That struck a chord. "Possibly. But it may not be a physical kind of poison. It could be a psychic poison." I hugged myself against the chill. "It's happened before. Someone might threaten to leave the Brotherhood, and just...die."

"Jeez," Mike set down his bag of chips.

"Kills off his own students, huh?" Don shook his head. "You weren't kidding about his being ruthless."

I sat on the arm of the couch, still shaking. I hated this feeling, like Alex was there, again, still, all around me, somehow, like there was nothing I could do, like-

"Hey, you ok?" asked Leonardo next to me.

"No...yes. I don't know. Listen, you should know this." I looked at Leonardo. "One of the basic tenets of Alex's philosophy, something he always would say, was 'If the goal of the intention is met, anything is justifiable.' Alex followed the teachings of Aleister Crowley, who said 'Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law', and he took that to heart." I chewed a finger nail.

"In other words, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants?" asked Leonardo.

I nodded.

"Well, look," said Mike coming around from behind the couch. "If those dudes died later, like in jail or something, maybe you're not really a suspect. Maybe the police just want to ask you some questions."

"Maybe," agreed Leonardo. "But I wouldn't go down there and turn myself in just yet. They are still going to want to know how you knocked them all unconscious and tied them up."

"And they might want to know about a certain bad-tempered turtle creature..." Donatello was looking in the direction of the passage where Raphael had disappeared. Dull thuds and thumps and ki-ya's could be heard from somewhere beyond the sleeping room.

"I need to talk to Raphael," I said.

"Ah..." Don looked hesitant. "Maybe not just now."

Mike shrugged. "I don't think it would hurt anything."

"I think he resents me enough. I don't want to just leave this misunderstanding unresolved. I mean, is he really always like this, or is it because of me?" I asked.

"Well," Mike licked the salt from his fingers. "Something is bothering him, but I don't think it's 'cause we said we'd help you. Raph has hooked up with more humans than any of us. It's something else."

"You don't think he hates me?"

Mike smiled knowingly. "He definitely does not hate you."

I looked at Leonardo again for the final word. He hesitated and then shrugged a little. "Sure. Check it out."

I ventured down the darkened bedroom passage, the sounds of Raphael's fury guiding me. A wooden door just on the other side of his futon swung open to reveal another whole room, better lit and larger than any of the others. The walls were hung with weapons, and the floor littered with weights. At the very back hung a large, blue punching bag, the object of Raphael's attack.

Certain he hadn't seen me, I slipped in and watched. Raphael leaped at the punching bag and sent it flying sideways with his feet, spun backwards and caught the back swing with his fist, right foot side kick, left, steadied it, and then pummeled it with both fists.

I sank down and sat leaning against the wall behind me, half fascinated, half intimidated. His body glistened with sweat. That's strange, I thought. Reptiles don't sweat. He must have caught my movement, because he spun around, looked at me and snorted. For a moment he stood still, staring at me, breathing hard. He reached behind his back and his two silvery weapons flashed in his hands.

It occurred to me that maybe I should have listened to Donatello and waited.

Raphael spun the weapons in his hands, and around his arms. They slashed the air over his head, spinning like two bloodthirsty pinwheels, and disappeared from sight only to reappear, so fast I couldn't follow.

"Don't move," said Raphael. He half-turned and whipped around, flinging them in my direction. They hit the wall over my head-swack! swack! and stuck fast. I only screamed a little and jumped. Bits of plaster fell onto my head. I swallowed. With slow, measured intensity, Raphael walked over to where I sat. He stood over me, teeth clenched. "Figure it out?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Good. I didn't kill anyone-"

"I-I know that-"

"-_today._"

It seemed prudent not to pursue this thought at the moment. "I think it was Alex." I said. "I think he somehow poisoned them."

Raphael's demeanor shifted a little. "Poisoned his own people?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Wow." He looked back over his shoulder at the punching bag, considering this information.

I waited a minute. "I, um, I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing you of anything, Raphael. I'm sorry." He didn't move. I cleared my throat and went on. "That was some pretty amazing whatever-you-call-it, just now, with those whaddaya call 'ems...um, those moves you were doing I mean...really awesome."

He looked back at me sharply. Eyes narrowed, Raphael gazed down at me trying to figure out what I was up to. I wondered if he would recognize the 'flatter and conquer' dynamic. Not that I was insincere, I really was awestruck by what I had, in the past two days, seen these guys do. Still I wanted to find a chink in Raphael's armor, and none of these turtles seemed overly modest. Raphael hesitated, and then decided to accept it. Half his face grinned. "Doomo," he said. "Kakushi waza renshu desu. Sai kata."

I smiled back, having no idea what he just said. He reached over my head and jerked the weapons from the impaled wall. I ducked as more plaster fell into my hair. He took one step back, and spun one around his arm, flipping it forward, and then the other. I felt a small victory; I had gotten Raphael to show off. He tossed them both over head, and caught them in one hand with a metallic clang, and sat down next to me. He was so close I could smell him. It wasn't unpleasant. The scent reminded me of a blackberry-choked creek on a hot summer day.

"How long did it take you to learn to do that?" I asked.

Raphael thought a moment. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't working with these."

"Wow."

"We all trained with all the weapons and techniques, but these..." he spun one forward, twisting it around his arm, "There was a saying in feudal Japan, that the sword is the soul of the Samurai. Well, these are mine, I guess."

"What are those called?" I asked. "Kai? Chai?"

"Sai," said Raphael. "You don't know much, do you? I thought you said Skywhatsis taught martial arts?"

"Only to the men. Women weren't even supposed to touch the weapons. We were supposed to keep quiet, keep house, and keep the men happy."

"That's weird," said Raphael. "Even in Japan, which, you know, is still pretty traditional about women, anyone can study martial arts."

"Well, that's Alex."

Raphael looked over at me sidelong. "You never held one?"

"Uh uh."

"Here," Raphael laid the sai in my hands like a rose.

Belladonna had just begun to teach me about reading energy in objects. I wasn't prepared to spontaneously feel what seemed to be pulsating from the weapon. The heavy cold steel fairly sang with energy. I could feel the vibrations hitting my hand like running water. "Omigosh!"

"What?"

"I'm just feeling a lot of energy in this."

"Really? You can do that?"

"Sometimes," I said. I held the sai across both my palms, and closed my eyes for a moment. I sensed darkness-dark red, and rage, spilling blood, relentless fury without thought, and sudden release- My eyes flew open. It was frightening, foreign, and I had no doubt that this three-pronged soul of Raphael had been used to take a life.

"What ?" His face was a strange combination of curiosity and guardedness. The intensity in his light, gray eyes was almost like a hunger.

I shook my head to dispel the discomfort. "How do you do that?" I asked. "Make it spin around like that?"

That I had changed the subject was not lost on Raphael. He hesitated a full five beats, an almost invisible smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Like this.." he started to position my hand. "Here, stand up." We stood and he set it in my hand again. "Take it like this...thumb here..ok." He held the other sai in one hand and demonstrated. "See, all one movement. Move your thumb, there, and see? Don't hit yourself."

I tried several times, feeling clumsy and self-conscious. The prong kept getting hung up in the back of my hand.

"Ok," said Raphael. "Other hand."

"Oh, my left hand is really uncoordinated."

"You want to be balanced." He arranged my left hand, and I tried to spin the sai with that one, too, but it was pretty hopeless. "Just relax, look," he took the sai back. "You want all movement to flow from here," he pointed to the lower part of his plastron, just over his wide leather belt. "This is the hara, the center, here." He laid his hand on my stomach, just above my waist. I stiffened, and I know he felt it. He paused, his hand resting on me, as though studying my reaction, and weighing it. Knowing he was observing me so carefully did not make me any more comfortable.

"Ok, try this," Raphael moved behind me. "Splinter used to do this with us until we got too tall." He took my shoulders and turned me toward the center of the room. With a sai still in each hand, he took my hands from behind and opened my arms. I felt myself tightening, resisting. "Relax," he said. "This isn't gonna hurt." I tried to let go and let him guide my arms through a series of movements, and tried to focus on letting my energy flow from my center. I did feel something powerful moving through me, like heat, but I suspect it was Raphael's, not mine.

We came to a stop. "That's like dancing," I said.

"Yeah, but this is more practical. This can save your life." He stuck the sai back in his belt again. "The thing is, there shouldn't be any effort. Lemme show you something. You come at me like you're gonna hit me."

"Oh, right. Sure."

"I'm not gonna _hurt _you. Come on, come at me like you mean it."

"Dressed like this?" I asked, holding my long skirt. I really wanted him to like me. I wanted us to be friends, and though it felt like what was happening here in the work out room was moving in that direction, the truth was, I was afraid of Raphael.

He stood watching me, head cocked a little to one side, serious. "Come on," he gestured with both hands.

I took a breath, made a fist, took two steps forward, and swung at him. Raphael slid the edge of my arm off his forearm, sidestepped, and I almost fell down. "Do it again," he grinned.

"You just want to see me fall on my face!" I managed to grin back. I was beginning to think this was some sort of game, having little to do with teaching me any thing.

"Maybe."

I came at him again and this time he caught my arm so fast I never saw it coming. He flipped me over as lightly as though I were a paper fan, and gently dropped me to the floor. He stood over me, eyes bright with amusement.

"Hah!" I cried and grabbed his leg, trying to trip him. Instead he lifted his leg, pivoted over me and landed sitting on my stomach. "Agh!" I yelped as the lower edge of his shell dug into me. "Jeez, you've got a bony behind!"

Raphael laughed. He raised up a little, taking some of his weight off me, but he didn't let me up. Then I noticed the sai in his hand. I gasped. I hadn't even seen him pull it out.

"You'd probably do real well to learn some of this," he flipped the sai around and slipped it back into his belt. "I mean that. It can get pretty serious out on the street. People who survive are the ones who can take care of themselves. Especially women."

"Are you trying to scare me?" I asked.

Raphael gazed down at me and shook his head slowly. "No. I'm not trying to scare you. But it probably wouldn't be too hard."

"No," I said with as much bravado as I could. "I have been scared by the best, a master terrorist, and you, Raphael, Ninja turtle, are not going to scare me."

Of course, it was a preposterous statement for me to make, given my present position. He didn't seem to take it as a challenge, but watched me, his expression again unreadable. Maybe he heard the part I hadn't intended to be heard, that I was really asking him to please_ not_ scare me.

Abruptly the door slammed open. "Hey, you guys gonna eat something before we-" I twisted around to see Michaelangelo standing there. "Raphael-!" he cried, aghast. "What in the world are you doing?"

Raphael looked up. "Uh..."

I burst out laughing. The look on his face was priceless. "He's teaching me how to protect myself!" I explained to Mike.

"Really? Well, I'd say you could use a little more protection-"

I heard footsteps running toward us. Raphael started to stand. "Mike-" he began.

Michaelangelo's foot caught him full in the face. They both tumbled off me.

"Yikes!" I yelled and rolled away.

Raphael had already regained his feet. "Ok, pal, I've got time to give you a lesson, too."

"Fat chance, bro!" returned Michaelangelo, and the two crashed together again, this time Mike went flying over Raphael's shoulder, across the room into the wall. His recovery was instantaneous; he leaped from his back to his feet and took the charging Raphael by the head and shoved him into the opposite wall. Michaelangelo blocked an elbow with a palm, but Raphael's knee came up and hit him square in the jaw.

"Dear Goddess..." I backed toward the door, wondering if they were actually going to kill each other.

Leonardo stood in the doorway. "Aw, nuts," he muttered. "We're never gonna get out of here."

I looked at him, feeling close to panic. "Can't you stop them?"

"Nah. You really can't stop them until they wear themselves out-" He looked at my expression and laughed. "They do this all the time. They're just sparring."

There was a terrific crash as someone's body hit the weapons rack and several swords, axes and sets of nunchukas smashed to the floor.

Leonardo watched for a moment longer. "Hey, guys, we gotta go! We've got some territory to cover tonight!" This had no noticeable effect. Raphael dodged a punch and spun around, his foot completely missing Michaelangelo who had flipped backwards out of reach. Leonardo shrugged and walked out. I couldn't watch. Even if they were only playing, it was too rough for me. I followed Leonardo out the door.

A short while later I was sitting on the couch next to Splinter watching a "McGuyver" rerun, when Raphael and Michaelangelo made their noisy return. Raph had Mike in a headlock, and dragged him, grunting and kicking to where I sat. He dropped him at my feet with a dull thud, grinned at me, and swaggered off to the kitchen.

I looked down at Mike on the floor, who smiled brightly up at me. "See?" he said. "I've come to rescue you!"

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," Mike lowered his voice. "I have to let him win or he'll go all night."

Splinter cast a dubious glance down at Michaelangelo.

On the over-stuffed chair, Donatello pointed to the TV. and said to no one in particular, "You can't do that y'know. The sulphur wouldn't react with enough heat to cause an explosion big enough to break that lock."

Mike sat up. "There's beef stroganoff on the stove," he said to me.

Raphael emerged from the kitchen, chewing.

"Raphael, did you eat out of the pot?" accused Mike.

"Well, it's quicker!"

"Hey, there's other people here, ya know-"

"It's ok," I said quickly. "I don't mind." I looked at Mike. "Did you make the stroganoff?"

He grinned and nodded.

"If there's food in the house, Mike will cook it," said Raphael. "Hey, Leo!" he shouted down the sleeping passage. "We goin' or what?"


	9. Chapter 9

On the concrete ramparts of the Battery Street Bridge, four gargoyle-like figures crouched in the fading light of the waning moon. Street lights illuminated them from below, casting eerie reverse shadows across their faces, though no one could have seen them to appreciate the effect. A strong breeze played in off the bay and the endless rumble of traffic was carried to their ears. Far off, a freighter whistled into the night, and from the streets a distant chorus of sirens keened their warning. The four sat perfectly still, watching the dark water reflect the glittering skyline.

"I think our best bet at this point is to head back to the dojo and see if we can scare up a live one," said Leonardo. "We could spend days peering into penthouse windows and never turn up anything."

"Damn, I wish I'd had ten more minutes with those punks," grumbled Raphael.

"Couldn't be helped, man," Mike offered.

"Leo," said Don. "What do you think about rescuing this kid from her own father?"

Leo nodded. "I've thought about that. I think we have to make a judgment call."

"Whaddaya mean?" Raphael frowned. "He's pond scum, right?"

"Based on what Lia said, yeah."

"And as far as we know," added Mike. "He just offed six of his own students. Seems kinda, like, not nice."

"As far as we know," repeated Don. "Truth is, we don't know what really happened to those men. And the thing is, even if he did kill them, for whatever reason, even if he's as bad as Lia says, is it our place to decide he hasn't any rights as a parent?"

"Don, you definitely think too much," muttered Raph.

"Lucky for you..."

"You just complicate things. Look," Raphael stabbed a finger into his palm." We said we'd do this thing, so we just do it, right?"

"That's actually where I went with it," said Leo. "We made a promise to help her, so we do what we said we'd do. As more information comes to light, we can always, I don't know, talk to her. Work it out. Something."

"She don't wanna talk about it," said Raphael. "She's still not showin' us her whole hand."

"I don't think we have the whole story yet, either," agreed Don.

"I sure hope the only part that's missing is the 'happily ever after' part," said Mike

"Well, whatever it is we don't know yet, I don't think she's trying to put one over on us. I think she's just afraid to tell us everything." Leonardo stood. "Ok, we've got a working plan anyway, let's roll. With any luck, someone will be there tonight."

The four moved silently and quickly over the rim of the bridge supports and down toward the service tunnel entrance.

"Leo," said Raphael quietly. "You know this is a needle in a haystack."

Leonardo looked out over the teeming expanse of Brooklyn and then back to Manhattan's twin towers, dominating the most densely populated island in the country. "I hope it won't be that hard."

Alexander Skylord's New York-based School of the Brotherhood resided in a long building rusting in the salt marshes above an abandoned section of rotting piers along the Brooklyn side of the East River. A cooling breeze hissed through the coarse grasses growing amid the ruins of the industrial park The remains of other collapsing structures offered the shelter of darkness for four shadow warriors as they crept along toward the corrugated walls of the old warehouse. A light gleaming from the windows encouraged them, and the breeze carried voices.

"Good call, Leo," whispered Mike. "We've got some action here."

The small windows of the first story were high, and beside a pile of old, rusting truck and auto parts, Donatello took a boost up from Mike and Leonardo, and peered inside. Rhythmic shouts could be heard chorusing within.

"Well?" demanded Raphael impatiently from the ground.

"It's a dojo, alright, with a class in progress. They don't look very advanced " Donatello reported. "There's about twenty, no twenty-four students, all male, in white karate-style uniforms. Instructor is wearing black, also male, Caucasian." Donatello looked up at the next set of windows overhead. "Looks like there's something going on upstairs, too."

"I'm on it," said Raphael, disappearing around the corner.

Donatello hopped down, and the three skirted the building, around to the east side. Raphael was perched on a narrow window ledge, one hand grasping the bent water pipe he had used to make his ascent.

"This is weird shit!" Raphael whispered loudly down to the others. "I can't even tell what language they're usin'."

"What are they doing?" hissed Donatello.

"It's like a classroom, sort of...like a school or somethin'..." Raphael listened a while longer. "Kinda sounds like Hebrew, some of it." He slid down the pipe. "Go on, take a look."

Each took a turn looking and listening and puzzling. They retreated into the shadows to confer.

"No," Donatello shook his head. "I really didn't understand what they were talking about."

"That's helpful," said Raphael "I thought you knew everything."

Don ignored him. "That diagram on the wall looked like the Tree of Life, so that explains the Hebrew, but I think I heard some Latin and maybe some German."

"Well, Lia did say this teaching incorporates a lot of different philosophies, East and West," said Leonardo.

"Man with finger in too many pies may never get chance to eat," quipped Michaelangelo.

"You're deep, Mike," said Raphael sourly.

Both classes, upstairs and down, concluded at midnight. The turtles each chose a man to shadow with the hope one would lead to Alexander Skylord. Leonardo followed the martial arts instructor, Donatello the upstairs group leader, both of whom left on foot. Raphael was less fortunate as his intended quarry drove off in a 30 year-old Volkswagen bug. Raphael ran and leaped lightly onto the car, choking on exhaust and cursing the makers of Volkswagen as he clung to the back. Michaelangelo lingered at the building to see if anyone had been hiding unnoticed, and then belatedly took off after two younger students

XXX

I finally fell asleep on the couch. Splinter had sat with me for a long time, encouraging me to sleep, and had eventually retired himself. The last thing I remembered was some old "Cheers" rerun. I woke up a couple of times, rolled around on the lumpy couch, wondering if I had heard the turtles coming in.

I was at home, in the cabin, all alone. It felt strange. Something was wrong, I couldn't get the door to close, and I knew Mom was somewhere, in the bedroom, but she wouldn't come and help me. I was calling her and she didn't hear or maybe she was gone, but the dark smoke was getting into the house, and it was toxic, in some unidentifiable way, so bad...dark purplish smoke, and the door wouldn't say shut, and then I saw it coming in the windows, too, creeping in like fog over the hilltops, dark and threatening, and evil and I was trying to keep it out. And then it came at me, and I tried to run, but my legs wouldn't work, and I felt like I was trying to run underwater, and it coiled, the smoke, around my legs, and began climbing up my legs, the dark purplish, poison smoke, touching me-! That thing-! Wrapping around me-! I screamed -and I heard my scream in my head-and someone was holding me, I struggled to sit up, screaming and trying to strike out and fight it off-

"Lia! Stop-Wake up! It's me-you're just dreaming!"

I opened my eyes. Two nearly identical faces peered down at me-I recognized them. Leonardo held my wrists. "You were dreaming. It's ok. You're safe," he said.

I gasped, trying to catch my breath. "A dream..." I relaxed a little, and collapsed back onto the cushions again. Leonardo cautiously released my hands, as though expecting me to start flailing again.

"Are you ok?" asked Donatello, a concerned frown ridging his brow.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "I have them all the time," I said. "They went away for a while, but since...since Rose disappeared..." I pressed one hand over my eyes, suddenly I could see her so clearly. _Don't cry again!_ I struggled to sit up, hampered by Leonardo sitting on my skirt on the edge of the couch. "You know," I said. "I can never tell if it's just a dream, or if it's really Alex, there, inside my head..." I shuddered and looked up at them. "When did you get in?"

"About an hour ago."

I looked from one to the other. "Did you...find anything?"

Leonardo sighed. "We have some information."

"What?" I asked.

"Don's working on it."

I looked at Don. He walked back over to the low table behind me. "I got an E-mail address for the store that one of them seems to be associated with," he said, sitting down in front of a computer monitor set up on the table. He began hitting the keys rapidly. "I've been doing some cross-referencing, and when I've find what I'm looking for...I can..." Don's voice trailed off.

"What?" I asked. "You can what?" The keys continued to click at a high speed. I waited a moment. "What? What can you do?" I repeated.

"Huh? Oh, oh, sorry," said Donatello, distracted. "I can...uh...you know," he was staring at the screen, typing up a storm. "You know..."

"I don't know!" I almost shouted. "What?!"

Donatello looked up, startled. "Hack into the system," he said, blinking.

I covered my eyes again. "I'm sorry, Don," I said softly. "I just don't seem to be doing very well." I lifted a strand of hair out of my eyes and shoved it back. My clothes were a mass of wrinkles after having slept in them. I felt awful. I looked up at Leonardo, who sat still gazing at me, one hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Would it be ok if I took a shower?" I asked.

"Of course," said Leonardo. "You need a towel?"

"No, thank you, Leo. I've got one." I picked up my suitcase where I had dropped it next to the couch, and stumbled off to the bathroom.

I stayed in the shower a long time, sitting in the corner of the stall, letting the hot water rain down on me, and crying my eyes out.


	10. Chapter 10

The day passed slowly. Mike, Leo and Raphael were sleeping. Don had joined them for an hour and a half, and then gotten up to resume his work on the computer. I sat with a cup of instant coffee in the over-stuffed chair, chewing on a pencil and staring apathetically at Adeline's notes and edits on my manuscript. Splinter seemed to spend a great deal of time in his room. Sometime around three o'clock, Don let out a war whoop.

"Holy Moly!" His typing was faster. He muttered to himself. "I knew it...I knew it...ah, I don't believe this...oh, boy..."

"What?" I asked, remembering to be patient if I didn't get complete sentences at first.

"Oh, I think I've found something..."

"What?"

"Hold on-" Donatello leaped up and dashed down the sleeping passage. "Hey, Leo! Mike! Hey Raph! Wake up!"

Two groggy-looking turtles emerged from the passage behind Don, a third following a moment later, looking venomous.

"Take a look at this!" said Don.

"What? What am I looking at?" Leonardo rubbed his eyes. I joined them. The computer screen held several typed messages, in some gibberish-looking code.

"This is an intercepted message," explained Donatello."That guy, the instructor from last night, had sent an E-mail to these guys," he pointed to a coded name, "and these guys have been shooting messages all over. Now, I haven't completely cracked the encrypting code, but this response..." he pointed to the second message." ...originates from..." Don hit more keys, the screen shifted to a schematic or map of some kind. "Here!" he said triumphantly.

"Wazzat?" asked Mike, yawning mightily.

"You don't recognize this place? Here let me bring it up a little." The picture enlarged, it appeared to be a blueprint of several passageways and chambers. "Look like a nice place to spend Christmas?" Don asked.

"Oh, man..." Raphael rubbed his face. "Don, that place doesn't even exist anymore. It blew up, remember? The whole block is still a pile of rubble."

"Is it?" asked Don.

"Well, even if it does exist," said Leonardo. "We laid the whole matter to rest. The organization, that whole branch of the Foot no longer exists."

"Maybe, Leo," agreed Don. " I know we've heard whoever is left is in chaos and disorganized. But someone is out there, and has tapped into the system once used by the Foot, because this blueprint is in their files. And it would seem they may be in communication with someone associated with Skylord's school."

"Excuse me," I said from behind Mike. "I don't understand. What does this mean?"

Donatello was still hitting keys, the image on the monitor changing rapidly from one configuration to another. "Well," he said. "It may mean more to us at this point than to you."

"I'm sure of that..." I said, watching the meaningless images.

"I mean, it may be more significant to us than it is to you."

I started to back away when a slight movement at my elbow made me aware of Splinter standing silently by my side.

"Master?" Leonardo addressed Splinter.

"Leonardo," said Splinter, tipping his nose up in Leo's direction. "What do you think?"

Leonardo gazed off to far corner of the room, his eyes unfocussed for a moment. "I...I'm not sure. I would like to think they are still in a state of confusion, but now it feels like something may be up. Maybe getting jumped at Amiel's the other night wasn't just a coincidence. Maybe some of them are organizing again..."

Splinter nodded, and motioned lightly with his hand. "My sons..." he turned to me. "If you will excuse us for a moment, Lia..." He led his charges away to his chamber, evidently for a private consultation.

I looked around the living room in frustration. Why wasn't I going to be included in this conversation? Were they still looking for Rose, or was this turn of events, whatever it was, going to send them off on another project? What was it with this obsession they had with these Foot people, anyway? They spent all night prowling around, or whatever it was they did, and return with some information significant only to themselves? Maybe I needed to forget this and go to the police, or the private detective Adeline had mentioned, or some more conventional means of searching for kidnapped children. _Milk cartons, _I thought bitterly, throwing my pencil on the table. _At least milk cartons could be viewed in the light of day._ I needed to talk to Adeline. Talking to another human being seemed like a very good idea.

Adeline's secretary took a long time to answer. When she did though, she put me through right away. "Hi Adeline," I said.

"Lia? Oh, thank goodness. Are you ok? Where are you?"

"I'm fine, " I lied. "I just wanted to call and apologize for cutting you off last night. I was sort of upset and I really couldn't answer your questions." That was no lie.

"Are you, ah, still in hiding?"

"Yeah, I think I have to be, for a while anyway. See, I have no way to prove I didn't have anything to do with those men being killed."

"Lia, where were you that night? Can't you prove you were somewhere else?"

"Well, no, 'cause I wasn't somewhere else. I was there." I glanced down the passageway, listening for some evidence I was being heard. "Alex was there, too. I think he's the one who did it."

"Oh dear Jesus..." Adeline sounded agitated. "Ok, ok, well honey, I'm so glad you called. I have something here for you. It's a package. It was sitting on my desk this morning. How it got in here, I have no idea, but it's addressed to you."

"Me?" I asked weakly.

"Uh huh. It has a note, here. It says, 'Caution: Chemical Combustion Hazard: To Be Opened Only By Lia Hanrahan Who Alone Holds the Key'. Frankly I've been sitting here arguing with myself about whether or not I should call a bomb squad in. But I wanted to talk to you first."

"I hold the key?' I asked.

"Mm hm. You know, it looks like it may have a tape in it. That's the shape, but I'm not about to shake it to find out."

"A tape, like a message maybe?" I sighed shakily. "Ok, I think I know what he means."

"What who means?"

"Alex. It's from Alex. It has to be."

"He was in my office-?" Now poor Adeline sounded frightened.

"Him, or one of his people." I looked up at the steel frame of the purloined pay phone and chewed my lip. "I'll be over shortly, Adeline. I suppose he wants to negotiate." I was shaking, though part of me felt calm, almost slow-motion. "I-I've been thinking Adeline. Maybe I should talk to your private investigator friend."

"I can try and reach him. When will you be here?"

"As soon as I can, Adeline. Bye." I hung up, turned hurriedly around, and plowed right into Donatello.

"What's up?" he asked, catching my shoulders as I nearly lost my balance.

"Not much," I gulped, trying to sound casual. I could see behind him Leonardo and Raphael standing still in the arched doorway. I wondered how much they heard. Raphael shook his head in disgust and crossed over to the couch, throwing himself into it. Based upon that, I could imagine they had heard everything.

"Where are you going, Lia?" asked Leonardo calmly.

I laced my fingers together and studied them, feeling strangely like a little girl caught playing hooky. "I...um...I just talked to Adeline. Someone left a package with a tape in it addressed to me. I need to go get it. It's from Alex. Maybe he wants to negotiate."

Donatello frowned. "Has anyone played it?"

"No, no," I turned away from him. "Only I can open it. It's like got some chemical self-destruct device on it or something."

"This doesn't sound like a good idea," said Leonardo.

"No!" I didn't let him finish. "This is the message we've been waiting for! The deal Alex wants to make!"

"Sounds more like 'Mission Impossible'," said Michaelangelo from behind Leo.

"I have to go-" I pushed past Donatello and grabbed my backpack off the floor. "We can find out what he wants-" I rummaged for a hair tie and pulled my hair back into a pony tail. "If he wants to negotiate, then there's a chance-"

"You are gonna cut a deal with this jerk?" asked Raphael from the couch.

"That's my _daughter _out there! I'd cut a deal with the Devil himself!"

"Wait," protested Donatello. "You can't just go out there in broad daylight-"

"No!" My voice was rising. "It's_ you _who can't go out there in broad daylight! I can go anywhere-!"

"Lia," said Leonardo, still maintaining a maddening sort of calmness. "It would actually be a lot safer for us to go, than for you."

"Why is that?"

Donatello answered. "Well, aside from this whole thing stinking to high heaven of a trap, and aside from the fact that our ability to cover you would be severely compromised, there's the little matter of two, possibly three, rather large and serious organizations out there looking for you right now."

"Three?" I asked. "What three organizations? What are you talking about?" I slung my back pack over my shoulder.

"Lia, wait, wait. You'll miss Fox Kids if you go now-" Mike pleaded not very convincingly. He shrugged at Donatello's dismayed look.

Leonardo shook his head, stepping further into the living room. "Look, we just can't let you go out there."

"You _what?_" I yelled. "You can't _let _me? No, no, you can't _stop me!"_ I sat on the little stool by the door and jerked on my boots. I glanced up. Splinter had entered the room. Leonardo gestured to him helplessly.

Donatello tried one more time. "Please, Lia. We know you're really upset, but this just doesn't sound safe. That package could be rigged with-who knows- plastic explosives. We just want you too wait and think about this, and not uh, act...not act..."

"_Not act?!_" I asked, jumping up, furious.

"Irrationally."

"Oh. Great. I'm irrational. Well, you just wait until _your_ two-year old is kidnapped by some sadistic megalomaniac and see how rational you feel!" I spun around, jerked open the wooden door, and ran out the short passageway. As I pounded and pressed on bricks, looking for the one that slid the door open, I could hear them.

"Lia-at least wait until tonight so I can diffuse it-"

"Forget it, Donnie. She ain't listenin'."

"What're we gonna do, tie her up?"

"Maybe you could sit on her again?"

I found the brick, the door groaned open, and I took off at a dead run down the half-lit tunnel.

It apparently didn't take them more than a minute to recover from the shock of my escape. I heard them running up behind me, splashing in the water and making no attempt at stealth. I felt panicky. They did not understand. The only real connection had appeared and they were trying to stop me. I ran headlong.

Someone caught my arm and spun me around. I flung myself back and fell up against the hard wall. In a panic, I tried to cover my face with my hands and pull away. "No! No! No!" I cried, ducking down and trying to double over. "Leave me alone!" Two implacably cool and firm hands took mine and pulled my hands to my sides. I found myself pressed up against the brick wall, nose to nose with Leonardo. His face was hard. I stood gasping, gazing into his bright, furious eyes. That was about as angry as I ever needed to see Leonardo. He waited a moment, eyes fixed on mine, before speaking.

"When you asked for our help, and we agreed to do so," he said evenly, "I took on the responsibility for that, and to see to it that you would be kept safe from harm. I have responsibilities to my brothers and to my sensei, as well, and I take all my responsibilities seriously. In order for me to do this, I need to know I have your cooperation. I cannot allow you to jeopardize any of us, or even yourself. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I tried to keep my eyes on his, but I couldn't. "I-I didn't mean to-I just-just-" I tried to speak , but my voice failed, and I crumbled inside. Leonardo released my hands and I slid down against the brick wall, and sat in a little heap, dropping my head and covering my eyes. I felt stupid, trapped, defeated. Everything felt so hopeless. I stifled a sob.

"Look, Lia," Leonardo knelt beside me, his voice a little softer. "You just have to trust us."

I nodded behind my hands, and felt a hand on my shoulder. Michaelangelo said. "We have to work together. You can't just run off like that."

"It's all I've ever done..." I answered without lifting my head. "Running away is what I do..." When I did look up, Leonardo was still crouched next to me, looking at me intently. He stood up and reached his hand down to me.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go back home and talk about how we're going to do this."

Walking back with them I felt numb. I glanced over at Raphael. In the dim gloom I could make out an expression something like a smirk on his face. "What?" I asked.

He looked pleased and directed his gaze up at the curving walls. "Well, no one can say _I'm_ the most out of control person around here, anymore."


	11. Chapter 11

I sat on the blue couch next to Splinter, holding a cup of tea he had made me. Michaelangelo sat next to me on the big chair. Behind us Donatello was back to furiously clicking on his key board. Leonardo sat on the couch arm, next to Splinter, and Raphael was everywhere, pacing.

"So it would seem," Splinter was saying," that the goal is to gain possession of this package in a manner which will create the least risk for all." He turned to me. "Do you agree with this, Lia?"

"Of course I do," I said softly. I ran my finger around the rim of the cup. "I'm sorry," I said for the fifth or sixth time. "I got impatient, and I...didn't understand...I thought that..." I stopped, not really sure I wanted them to know what I thought. "You know, it really has a lot to do with what you said out there, Leo...that I have to trust you guys. And, I don't want to make excuses, but sometimes that's really hard for me to do." I shook my head. "No. It's always hard for me to do. It seems like so many times I've trusted the wrong people and it's turned out really bad...and...I'm really sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing," said Leo. "Trust is a two-way street. We need yours as much as you need ours."

"I know..."

"Um..." Leonardo stood and moved over to sit on the coffee table in front of me. "I need to say something..." I looked up at him. Concern etched his face. "I didn't push you into the wall out there, you know..."

I frowned. "The wall? No, I know that. I sort of fell back. I was just trying to get away."

"You put your hands up, like you thought someone was going to hit you. I hope you don't think any of us would ever..."

"No..." I shook my head. "No, of course not...I...uh...if I did that, it was just like reflex reaction...I didn't think you...no." I couldn't really remember what I did.

"Reflex," he repeated, and glanced over at Splinter ."_Someone _has hit you. And enough that you automatically are ready for it."

I looked down. "Well, yeah...I think I said that..."

"I think I'm just getting it." Leo let out a sharp breath. "I just can't imagine how someone that big could think it was ok to hit someone who..." He looked at me. "Someone like you."

I shrugged "Well, he's got a temper..."

"No," said Leo. "Raph's got a temper. We're talking about someone with a problem."

"I guess so," I said. "You sound angry."

"I think I'm getting angry." Leo took a deep breath and looked again at Splinter.

"There are many things in human nature, Leonardo," said Splinter. "Which are incomprehensible to myself, as well."

"Ok, ok," broke in Raphael as he orbited the television set. "So we've established that Skypunk is scum, like I said. Now I gotta ask something: What is the deal with the private investigator you were talking' about on the phone? What the hell was that all about?"

I shrugged, feeling trapped and guilty again. "That was about me getting scared, I guess. Look, I won't do that, ok? Adeline has this friend, but I'll just tell her to forget it, ok? I promise." My throat was tightening again. I felt awful.

"Hey, Lia," said Mike. "Take it easy, ok?" He gave Raphael a significant look and a gesture I don't think I was supposed to see.

"It's just that with all that stuff about the Foot people, I was afraid you were all going off in some other direction..." I explained

"Lia, you don't understand," said Donatello from behind us. "We've been going in the same direction all along. Only now it would appear that the Foot are coming in your direction."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not really clear on what this is all about, but since one this afternoon, these messages have been flying back and forth between this address, which I believe is someone in Skyguy's school, and this address, which has associated files containing information pointing to the Foot."

"You mean that blueprint?" I asked, turning around to look at Don. "What exactly was that?"

Donatello paused in his typing. "The location of the battle in which the Foot Clan's leader was slain."

Something compelled me to ask. "How did he die?" There followed a strangely uncomfortable silence.

"On Leonardo's katana," said Donatello.

"Oh." I turned back slowly. Leo was still seated on the coffee table before me. Some sort of inane rationalization was forming in my mind, that he must have had a good reason, of course, I'm sure... The silence in the room boomed with my unasked question. I slowly raised my eyes to his.

Leonardo drew himself up. His expression was like stone again. "For Honor".

XXXX

We came up with a plan for Adeline to drop off the tape in a paper bag in a phone booth at Second Ave., not far from her office. I had to explain that my "friends" were acting as bodyguards, and helping me. "What about Harvey Hamilton?" she asked. "I did speak with him and he said he'd be more than happy to help you."

"Well, I talked with my friends about that, and actually they weren't uh, really comfortable with working with anyone else right now. But I really appreciate you asking him and all..." I drifted off lamely.

"Lia, he's really very good. He studied law at Harvard before going into business." Adeline paused. "Are you free to talk?"

"Of course."

"Who are these friends of yours? This all seems so, I don't know, mysterious, cloak and dagger material. Are you ok there?"

"I'm safe here, Adeline. I'm probably safer here than anywhere I've ever been." I really did believe that. I tried to think how I could put her mind at ease. "It's not like they were total strangers. My teacher recommended them." I glanced back over at Don who grinned and flashed me a thumbs up

"Alright baby, alright. I have a dinner date tonight, sort of late, so I'll have the...thing..in the booth by 11p.m., like you said. Can you at least give me your number there, so I can get a hold of you in case I get anymore presents?"

I covered the mouthpiece. "She wants the phone number here," I said.

"Let me talk to her," said Don, reaching for the phone. "It's ok," he reassured me when I hesitated. "I _sound_ human." He took the receiver. "Hello, Ms. Jackson? Hi, I'm Don, one of Lia's friends...uh huh...I just want to thank you for helping us here...yeah, well, we're working on it. The number? Yeah, that's probably not a bad idea, I would just ask you not to give it out to anyone, not even the police, ok? Thanks. It's 555-9099. Uh huh. She's fine." Donatello gave me a look of mock appraisal, crowded into the booth with him. "She's pretty upset about her kid, of course, but she's holding up. She's a lot tougher than she thinks she is." That funny half grin crossed his face as he handed the phone back to me. "The location of this phone can't be traced through the number," he whispered. "I've taken care of that."

"He does sound like a nice young man," Adeline said to me.

"He is. They all are."

"How many young men you have working for you there?"

"Four, they're brothers...but I can't say anymore." Donatello still had an amused look on his face, watching me. "I'm ok," I assured Adeline again. "I'll keep you posted. Thanks again, for everything."

Samuel Levinson took the headphones off and stopped the tape recorder, hitting the rewind. "Ok," he said. "That's it, we got it." He stretched and looked back over his shoulder at the man who stood behind him, lost in thought, one hand stroking his moustache. He turned his attention to Samuel, laying a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Good work, Sam," his voice rumbled like a tiger's purr. "It is only a matter of time now. Our new business associates will doubtless be impressed with our ability to locate their targets with such accuracy." He turned away, smiling to himself. "We should be able to draw up a contract by this time tomorrow. I'll be out tonight, so keep listening and record everything that happens on that line."

"Yes sir," said Samuel. "Alex," he asked over his shoulder. "Were they human-looking?"

"No. Not at all."

Samuel ran a hand over his dark beard. "I wonder what she's doing with them..."

"It is of no consequence," Alex paused at the door. "She won't be doing it for long."


	12. Chapter 12

I made burritos for dinner and the turtles wolfed them down. Splinter politely ate a bit of one. They retired into Splinter's chamber, the interior of which I still had not seen, for nearly an hour, and then slipped out the passageway, into the night.

I washed the dishes, then the whole kitchen, then paced around. Splinter emerged soundlessly from his room and slid onto the couch. "Lia," he said softly. "How long has it been since you have played your instrument?"

"A while..."

"I would be most honored if you would play something for me."

I smiled at him and pulled my guitar out of its case and sat in the chair to tune it. The tuning turned into a sparse rendition of 'Sakura", which I had never forgotten from my first lessons.

"Lovely," said Splinter, his eyes closed. I kept picking until it worked into an Irish folk song my mother had taught me.

It was a long, sad, song, so I cut it off at three verses. I was running up and down the frets, picking out little riffs and deciding what to sing next, when the turtles came in the passage door. I stopped playing. "Do you have it?" I asked.

"Yeah," Donatello carefully carried a brown paper bag and set it on the table. I started to bolt up, but Leonardo was kneeling before Splinter, and I stopped. The other three joined him. They looked serious and sat at formal attention.

"Master," said Leonardo. "Someone knew we were going to be there. They were watching for us."

"They did not attack?" asked Splinter.

"No. If that was their intention, they missed their opportunity. We waited a long time before breaking cover. Finally Mike created a distraction, and Don was able to grab the parcel. I'm certain we weren't seen, but someone was waiting."

"Did you see them?"

"Yeah," said Raphael. "They were Ninja. Or dressed like it anyway."

"You were not seen?" Splinter's eyes narrowed.

"No."

"Who knew of the location?"

Leonardo shook his head. "Only Lia, and Adeline Jackson."

"I can't believe she would tell anyone," I said. "I trust her...at least..." something felt like a punch in my stomach.

"This doesn't make any sense." said Donatello. " How many Ninja could Adeline Jackson know? we watched her, She arrived in one cab, dropped it off, and left in another. Those guys, whoever they were, were there before she was."

"Someone got to her," said Raphael.

"I think we should see what's in this package," said Leonardo.

XXXX

Adeline gazed down at her hands as the coffee cup rattled unsteadily on the saucer. She shook her head, partly amused, partly annoyed with herself. _I'm acting like a schoolgirl_, she scolded herself, _all nervous and shook. _She peeked out between the overhead cabinets and the countertop at the man who sat on her couch, his back to her. His fair hair gleamed like pearl in the lowered lights of her living room. _What am I thinking, that he won't still be there?"_

"Peter, how do you like your coffee?"

"Coffee?" asked Peter from the couch. He turned around to smile at her indulgently. She knew her nervousness was apparent to him. "You don't have to make coffee for me. How about a couple of nice glasses?"

Adeline tilted her head and came around the counter. "What have you got there?" On the coffee table sat a bottle of Rose'. The label had been her favorite a long time ago. Now she knew where he must have gone when she excused herself briefly to drop off the mysterious package for Lia. Now she felt doubly off-center. "Oh, Peter, I don't drink."

Peter leaned back twisting around to see her again. "At all?"

"At all."

He looked thoughtful. "How long has it been?"

Adeline drew in a breath and came around the counter into the living room. "When Frank died, I went through a real hard time. I lost everything, not so much because of his death, as how I tried to cope with it. I lost almost everything behind drinking."

"Ten years?" Peter stroked his chin.

She nodded.

"Long time ago," he said, smiling. "Things change."

Adeline heard an alarm bell go off in her mind. She imagined herself forcefully hitting the snooze button. _No_, she thought, _Peter is just too gentle and sweet. He just doesn't understand._

On the other hand, she certainly didn't want to have to explain to him how it had been with her. Not now, not with the way he had been looking at her.

Peter's face was boyish and sincere. "Alright," he said. "One glass, then."

"One glass...?" repeated Adeline.

"I mean just bring one glass for me. I can't drink coffee at night."

"Oh, of course!" Adeline felt more off-balance than ever. She got a wine glass out from behind everything else in the cabinet and shakily poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Come on out here and sit with me," said Peter as he uncorked the bottle. "As nice as your stereo is, I did come up to talk with you."

Adeline sat on the couch with Peter, not too far away, and watched him slowly pour himself a glass of wine. Condensation made little rivulets on the bottle and Adeline wondered how he had kept it that cold. She was aware of the sip he took, and how he held it in his mouth. He sighed, "Another superb dinner."

"Yes, it was," Adeline rolled her head a little, stretching her neck to release the tension. It was an unconscious act, which over the years had become habitual. She realized too late the response it would trigger, though it was really alright. She didn't think he was in her apartment just to listen to her stereo, either.

Peter sat up, and set his glass down, motioning her to sit forward. He softly said his hands on her shoulders. "You know," he said. "Believe it or not, at one time in my meandering quest for myself, I studied Shiatsu..here..."

Adeline sighed, determined to feel comfortable and relax into the warmth of Peter's hands. She knew this dance. She heard the alarm bell, one more time, faintly in her mind, and pushed it aside. _It's been_ _so long_, she thought, _no wonder I'm nervous_. Peter gently massaged her shoulders, moving his hands down her back and finding tight places to coax into relaxing. The soft music wandered through the air, and the room glowed warmly. Adeline closed her eyes. The sensation of a warm, glowing ball began to form in her mind, superceding all other thoughts. It was comforting, relaxing, the warm dusky color of Rose'. She felt Peter's breath very close, on her neck, and then his cheek touching her hair, and the warmth of his lips behind her ear.

"Addie..." he whispered.

She gasped, but had no will to pull away. "What did you call me?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Addie," he breathed into her hair. "I said 'Addie'."

"Frank used to call me that..."

Peter pulled her around to face him. "I know..." he murmured, laying his mouth over hers. He tasted of sweet wine. He drew her in close and she felt engulfed by him, almost ready to lose herself entirely. He withdrew a little and she felt the wine glass on her lips. "Drink..." he said, kissing her forehead. She did so obediently, and the warmth spread through her like fire. "Good girl..." he kissed her deeper and harder, and as she felt the last wisp of resistance waft away like smoke, he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom.


	13. Chapter 13

We sat around the low table as Donatello carefully took the small package out of the paper bag. He had spread the table with a fire-proof aluminum blanket and sat a fire extinguisher at his elbow, just in case. The parcel did look like a tape cassette, wrapped in a charcoal black paper and tied with a red string. The cryptic message was written with a fountain pen on thin parchment, folded and tucked under the string.

"This is definitely from Alex," I said. "He was never much into Hallmark."

Mike shot me a grin. "Ya mean he doesn't care to send the very best?" I rolled my eyes.

"Ok," said Don. "I'm going to unwrap this..." We watched the paper come off to reveal an ordinary-looking plastic cassette with a tape in it. The side where it should have opened was coated with a thick, black, wax-like substance holding it closed. "It looks like it's got some kind of a design or something impressed into it...like a symbol or something." He was tipping the cassette, frowning at the black stuff.

"I think I know," I said. I extended my left hand across the table to Don and pointed to the ring on my third finger, one of ten I wore. "Does it look like this?"

Donatello plucked up my hand and looked at the raised symbol on the ring."Yeah, only in reverse."

"I hold the key."

"Take it off, ok?" said Don.

"Well, if I could, I would have a long time ago, but I can't get if off."

"Really?" Don worked at it gently. "It's not that tight...hmmm"

"You want some baby oil?" asked Mike.

"I've tried about everything," I explained. "I don't think it's a physical situation. I think it's being held in place by..." I glanced apprehensively over at Raphael. "Uh, something more metaphysical."

"Magic?" asked Raphael.

I shrugged and Raphael sucked on a tooth and said nothing. "I think I can just put it in place while it's still on my hand," I suggested.

"I don't want your hand to get burned," frowned Donatello."In case there's some sort of chemical combustion."

Splinter had been sitting silent and motionless on the other side of Leonardo. "Does it make sense," he began slowly, "for this man to attempt to injure Lia by this method? I believe that if his intention was to do her bodily harm, he could have done so at the hotel room, or even at her home in California. While I would always prefer to err on the side of caution, it would seem more likely that he merely wanted to be sure that it was Lia who opens it, and, one presumes, listens to the tape."

Leonardo leaned forward and reached for my hand. "May I?" he asked me. His formality struck me as sort of funny, since he apparently had no misgivings about taking hold of my hands when I didn't want him to. He studied my ring, eyes narrowed. "What is this? What does this symbol mean?"

"It's the Kether, the Crown on the Tree of Life. It has a lot of different correspondences, depending on what kind of Kabbalah work one is doing. But the main thing is that it holds the highest position, it's the highest expression of the various sacred paths on the Tree."

"That's your wedding ring, isn't it?" asked Michaelangelo.

I nodded.

"You want to try it?" asked Don.

Leonardo glanced between Don and Splinter, a worried frown knitting his brow.

"Yeah," I said, reaching my hand back across the table and with Don's guidance fitted the raised form of the Kether into the imprint on the case. There was a click, and the plastic box sprang open.

"That was easy," said Raphael with some disappointment in his voice. He pulled a large radio/cassette player onto the table from the floor and popped the tape in.

"Greetings, Lia," came Alex's slow-paced, deep voice. "I trust you are doing well in the company of your new companions. The time has come to talk, Lia. I am no longer interested in playing cat and mouse. Consider this your first, last, and only opportunity to acquiesce to me, or face the consequences of your actions. You have turned against me, and the Brotherhood, and you are well aware that cannot be tolerated. These are my terms: cease all aggression against myself and your Brothers, halt all efforts to publish your heretical manuscript of lies. Destroy all documents and notes you have written with regards to myself and the Brotherhood. Second, surrender yourself to me. Return to my side as my wife and helpmeet, and submit to my Will..."

I was starting to shake, hearing his voice, his uncompromising demands, and the presumption he could simply step back in and reclaim me. It was clear to Alex that nothing had changed. My leaving him, and all I had been through and learned, meant nothing.

"...and third, when you come to me, bring no one. Any interference, by anyone, will not only null and void this agreement, it will result in the immediate death of those who would be so foolish."

"Yeah, you and what army?" snarled Raphael.

"It is said, dear Lia," Alex's voice took on a more sinister tone, "there are always two ways. I have presented the easy way. Should you continue to defy me, there is another way. Have you observed when falls the dark of the moon? All aspects point to a most potent time for a Blood Letting Ritual, which will banish all harmful actions you may plan against me. It requires the sacrifice of a female child. I happen to have one available..."

"Oh my God-!" I gasped. I felt myself go cold inside. "Where's a calendar! Get me a calendar!" Michaelangelo, sitting next to me, touched my arm, trying reassure me. I turned to him "A _calendar!_!"

Alex was still speaking. "You will be presented with an opportunity to cooperate. Wherever you are as you listen to this, I will know, and have a car sent for you..."

I was shaking uncontrollably now, one hand over my mouth, the other in Mike's firm grasp.

"...Heed my final words, Lia. These are no idle threats. Your friends will die, our daughter's life will end to serve my needs, and in the end, you will die as well, if you refuse me now. Choose wisely." The tape hissed and clicked to a halt.

"Oh dear Goddess..." Even I could not imagine he would go so far.

Mike was at my side with a calendar. I hadn't even noticed he'd left. It featured buxom women in bathing suits. "Oh, jeez, Mike, not that one," complained Don. I grabbed it and tore through it.

"May..June, here, here!" I counted seven days until the new moon. I sat back and held my sides, staring at the little boxes representing the next seven days. I was having trouble breathing.

"Lia," Leonardo was searching my face. "He wouldn't do that, would he? His own daughter?"

"It doesn't matter to him!" I cried. "Don't you see? Nothing matters but his will-nothing!" I dropped my face into my hands. "If anything, using his own daughter would only make the magic that much stronger-ah, God, he'll do it! He will-" All was lost. There was no choice. There was no battle to be fought against a man who could poison another with a thought, who take whatever he wanted from me unopposed, who could find me wherever I hid-who could find me-! I looked up "He said he could find me...wherever I played the tape..." I looked around , half-expecting him to come striding in through the entry passage.

"That's bullshit, Lia. He can't find us here. He's bluffing," said Raphael. They looked at one another. Donatello suddenly reached for the cassette box and began peeling the black stuff away.

"Here-" he said between clenched teeth. "Oh, damn!" He removed a small, round, black thing with a silver piece underneath it. "Damn!" He set it on the concrete floor, quickly pulled a short sword form the wall and smashed the thing with the hilt.

"What was that?" asked Mike.

Donatello stood over it. "Tracking device."

"Oh God!" I cried, feeling half hysterical with fear now. "No-no!" I shrank back, scanning the room for someplace to hide.

"Hey," said Michaelangelo. "C'mere..." He reached over an drew me into a bear hug. His whole body, his arms, the plates over his chest, was hard, but his hug felt warm and safe. Being held triggered my crying all over again, but it was reassuring. "Shhhh, it'll be ok," he said soothingly.

"Chances are they'll be right above us, right?" I heard Leonardo say quietly.

I lifted my face from Mike's arms and saw Donatello nod. As one, we all looked up at the ceiling of the turtle's home, as if we could see through the layers of bedrock and brick and asphalt to the street above.

"D'ya think they'll figure it out?" asked Raphael.

"I don't think we're dealing with a stupid man," said Leonardo grimly.

Splinter, sitting silent and nearly invisible at Leonardo's side, rose up. "Michaelangelo," he began, and then said something I didn't understand. He laid a slender hand on Leonardo's arm, spoke a little more in a language I realized was Japanese, and turned his luminous, dark eyes to me. "Lia," he said. "If you would please come with me."

Mike helped me up, my legs were pins and needles from having knelt for so long. I followed Splinter as he padded with quiet dignity into his chamber.

Splinter's room was pitch dark when we entered it, but he lit a match and then three small candles on another low table and I could see a room of small dimensions. The floor was covered with a grass mat, and over that were scattered a number of pillows. Toward the far wall was a small cot, covered with quilts. Splinter motioned me to sit on one of the pillows and then sat down himself, facing a low table which closer up resembled an altar. A small carved Buddha sat in the enter, and a set of round temple bells lay next to the candle. I sat cross-legged on a soft pillow, as Splinter settled himself, closing his eyes for a moment, and taking a long, deep breath. He opened his eyes and gazed at me, his expression gentle.

"How are you feeling now, my child?" he asked.

I took a long sigh and tried to check in with myself. "A little better, being in here," I said.

"He frightens you terribly, does he not?" Splinter asked.

I nodded. "He does."

"Do you know how much power you give him when you surrender to your fear?"

I looked off into some far corner of the room, where the shadows swallowed the walls. "I don't know...a lot, I guess."

"You do not look at me when you answer," scolded Splinter gently. "So, I think, perhaps you are thinking something other than what you say."

I quickly looked back into those dark, shoe-button eyes.

"All of it. I know." I confessed. "I give away all my power."

Splinter nodded. "Why do you do that?"

"I don't know..." I said , looking down. A long silence followed. It became a terribly long silence. I suddenly realized I had averted my eyes again. I shot a look back up to Splinter's face. "Habit," I said. "It's almost like a habit..."

"Ha ha," Splinter's laugh was like the wind through the reeds. "You are a quick learner!"

Michaelangelo entered with a tray. On it was a steaming teapot, two teacups, several small jars, and two bamboo tea strainers. Again Splinter spoke in Japanese. Mike nodded, gave me a little smile, and quietly hurried out.

"They're going out to look for him, aren't they?" I asked.

"Yes, child," answered Splinter as he began filling the two tea strainers with a mixture of herbs from the jars. "Do you fear for them, as well?"

"I guess I'm not supposed to..." I began and stole a glance up at Splinter to check his reaction. He was pinching a bit of herb and did not look up."...but I do. Right now, especially. Don't you, Splinter, sometimes fear for their safety?"

Splinter looked up at me. "Every day," he said calmly. "But I do not give in to fear. I do not let it control me. I control it. It is not a thing I could always do." He set the two strainers into the two cups and poured hot water over them. "Like anything worth learning to do, it takes much practice."

"You're telling me I could learn to control my fear."

Splinter's toothy smile gleamed in the candlelight. "Only if you wish to stop giving all of your power to this man, and instead, keep it for yourself." He set one of the teacups before me. "It is very hot."

"Splinter, may I ask you something?'

"Of course."

"Who are the Foot, and why is there this big...this big deal about them? I keep hearing the name, but it's almost like they, your sons, don't want to explain what it's about." I really wanted to know why Leonardo had killed their leader, but I wasn't sure I could bring myself to ask.

Splinter settled back onto his cushion. He took a deep breath. "I will tell you a story," he said. "Perhaps this will answer your questions."

I tucked my legs under me, settling onto the cushion on one hip.

"Not all those who follow the path of the Shadow Warrior work in solitude as, what is the word? ..mercenaries," began Splinter. "Those who did gained much notoriety, and live in legend, but many more lived in clans, close families whose lives were dedicated to the art of Ninjitsu. The Foot Clan is one such ancient family of Ninja, whose origins are lost in the mists of time. It is said that two Ronin, that is, two Samurai whose Master had been killed and found themselves dispossessed, were introduced to the secret arts by a mysterious man-animal. Many such legends exist in Japan, of creatures both human, and animal."

Splinter paused to take a sip of his tea, and I did as well. It was hot, but sweet and soothing.

Splinter's story wove on. He told of how over the centuries the Foot had become divided into factions, one branch eventually turning to crime. He told of the rivalry between the Clan's two most skilled warriors, and how for the love of a woman, the entire Foot was nearly torn apart. One man, named Yoshi, killed his rival Nagi, and then fled with the woman to America. Nagi's brother Saki, rose to power in the Foot, and followed the two to New York, eventually killing them both in revenge for his brother's death.

I was growing sleepy, and having a little trouble following the tale, when Splinter said, "Yoshi was my Master, and by the code by which the Ninja live, it became my duty to avenge his death, and restore Honor to my Master's name. The opportunity to do so arose, when I, and four small turtles came into contact with a substance which caused our transformation into our present form."

"I taught them what I had learned from my Master Yoshi, and when they came of age, and attained a high level of skill, I sent them to slay the man who had dishonored us, Oroku Saki, the leader of the New York faction of the Foot."

I tried to shake myself out of my sleepy, fuzzy mind state. "You?" I asked. "You sent your sons out to kill someone?" I really didn't think I could have heard that right.

"I did," said Splinter with calm composure as always. "And in the end, Leonardo beheaded Oroku Saki in a duel, and restored Honor to us all."

I was so tired, a warm numbness was creeping into my arms and legs and it was all I could do to keep my head up. My eyes were closing on their own. I knew I should feel shock, or something, but I was falling into a deep sleep, and in a moment, I knew nothing.


	14. Chapter 14

I awoke disoriented, but feeling ok. A soft sound rose and fell around me in the pleasant darkness. I realized I was in the turtles' home, in the sleeping passage, in Leonardo's bed. I rolled onto my back, and stretched and tried to remember how I got there. The last thing I remembered was sitting on Splinter's cushions, fighting a great weariness. I sat up and saw I was dressed only in my thin undershirt and panties. With a vague sense of uneasiness I realized I couldn't remember getting undressed. On the futon next to me Donatello slept, snoring softly. My green flannel lay at the foot of the bed. I pulled it on and as quietly as I could, made my way to the living room.

Leonardo, on the couch, jumped a little as I entered, and turned, lifting his head, his eyes meeting mine. "'Morning," I whispered.

"Mmmphh," he answered, dropping his head again onto the pillow. I found my backpack, sat on the overstuffed chair, and rummaged for my watch. It was 12:30, I assumed in the afternoon. I must have been terribly tired; I never sleep that late.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," I said.

"It's ok. I wasn't really sleeping."

"Do you ever?" I asked.

"Ever what?" Leonardo pushed himself up on his elbows.

"Sleep."

His mouth pulled into a little half-smile and he rubbed the back of his neck, below the high ridge of his carapace. "Not much," he admitted. He regarded me with clear, bright eyes. I pulled my flannel closer around me.

"Leo," I said. "I don't remember getting into your bed last night. And how did I get my clothes off?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. " Oh, that. I did that," he said. "Splinter thought you'd be more comfortable. So I put you to bed. I hope that was ok."

"I never woke up..." I said.

"Splinter gave you a mild sedative in your tea. He didn't expect it to knock you out like that, just help you to calm down."

I swallowed. "So I was drugged and then you undressed me?"

Leonardo looked down for a moment and took a deep breath. "Lia, I would never do anything to violate you, or in any way dishonor you. Please believe me, I would never..." he shook his head. "I just wouldn't."

I chewed my lip and looked into those diamond-bright eyes. Some fierce ache in me wanted so much to believe him. I had to. "I think I do trust you, Leo, and that is very scary for me."

"Thank you," he said quietly. He watched my face, sitting very still. "I hope you can see your way out of the fear. I won't betray your trust."

I took a deep breath. I found myself drawn into his eyes, with their pattern like broken crystal shards. Really amazing eyes, such a transparent, light blue. It was actually kind of ok just sitting in the living room with Leonardo. Maybe even, if he could see me, see who I was, and it felt like he could, just then, it was alright. I finally looked down, breaking eye contact. Leonardo looked down as well, and readjusted his position. Maybe he needed a release from a moment which had somehow become too close. I know I did.

Leo sat up, yawned, and stretched, with a deep satisfying groan. I could hear a pop somewhere in his back or shoulders. Something in his demeanor seemed lighter than usual. "You haven't asked me what happened last night," he suggested.

Of course, they had gone out, the hunted had become the hunters. "What happened ?" I asked. "Was Alex anywhere near?"

"No, but about four blocks away we spotted a silver limousine idling in front of an unlikely looking office building. It was all dark, seemed like there was no reason for someone to be waiting there. There were three men inside, in black business suits, who got out a couple of times and looked around. Oddly enough, at one in the morning, they were wearing dark glasses." Leo smiled.

He doesn't laugh enough, I thought to myself.

"Nothing suspicious about _that,_" Leo went on. " It sat there until dawn, and then we lost it in traffic, it pulled onto Riverside Drive and we couldn't follow. However, Don hacked into the Department of Motor Vehicles and found it was registered to one Samuel Levinson. Didn't you mention a Samuel?"

"Oh my gosh, yes," I said. "That's him, Samuel Levinson!"

"Well, it's likely there's more than one Samuel Levinson in this town, but now we have an address. It's over in Brooklyn. We'll be going back out tonight."

I watched his face again, for a moment, and then looked down, telling myself this was good news, that they were getting closer. I knew all this was a lesson in patience for me, but I really wasn't feeling very patient. I thought about Donatello, his nimble fingers chattering over the keyboard as he talked to himself. "Leo," I asked. "How does he do that?"

"Who?"

"Don. How does he hack into supposedly secure systems like DMV?"

The flutter of an impish smile played over Leonardo's face . "He's a Ninja," he whispered.

Adeline wasn't in her office when I called so I sat on the couch with a cup of instant coffee in front of me, and idly strummed my guitar, trying not to think. No one seemed to be around.

Some sound caught my attention in the direction of the sleeping passage. I set down my guitar and tip-toed into the empty, dark room. The sounds came from further ahead, in the work-out room. As quietly as I could I slowly pushed open the door and peeked in.

In the relatively brilliant light of the large room, four turtles faced each other in a circle, mirroring one another in identical dance-like patterns of strikes and kicks and blocks. To one side stood Splinter, wrapped in a faded gray robe, a gnarled stick in one hand. No one seemed to notice me as I entered the room and sat again by the door . I had never seen katas done like that before, in the round. Nor had I ever seen any of Alex's students move with such an exquisite blend of power and effortless grace as these four. I thought back to the fights in the alley, and the hotel room, and knew I had been far too terrified and confused to understand what I had witnessed.

They stopped, facing center. Splinter clapped once, and they bowed. He clapped twice and they paired off; Leo with Don, Raphael with Mike. Splinter gave a command I understood without knowing a word of Japanese and they bowed to their partners, faced off in a fighting stance, and, as if a switch had been thrown, began sparring. At least I had to believe they were only sparring. The force of the blows, when they landed, made me cringe, and the speed with which they were delivered was blinding. I couldn't imagine how anyone could think, or react, so fast.

They must have kept it up for forty-five minutes, at a furious pace. All four were bathed in sweat, their ki-ya's hoarse. Splinter barked another command, but instead of stopping they switched partners. Leonardo leaped, a high spinning kick twisting him around to land hard on Mike's plastron. Raphael spun also, the elbow intended for Don's ribs was neatly deflected. Splinter said something else, and incredibly, the four turtles seemed to pick up the pace. Splinter moved in closer to the combatants, it seemed to me at great personal risk, and to my amazement, smacked Michaelangelo over the head with his stick. The second time the stick came at him, Mike ducked it, only to receive a smart uppercut to the jaw from Leonardo. Splinter spun around suddenly, like a small silver gray dervish, and caught Don on the temple with his nasty stick. When the second blow from the stick descended, Don blocked it, and then rolled, avoiding Raphael's jump kick. Raphael landed just a little off-balance, his target no longer where he thought it would be, and received a hail of blows from the stick on the back of his legs.

Splinter would have been the most amazing to watch, could I have really followed him. He seemed to melt into the floor, and flow like quicksilver, the stick in his hand emerging for an instant to rap a forearm, of smack the back of a less than vigilant head. This must have gone on for another hour. I was getting sore just watching. Suddenly something different happened. I saw the stick go up, glimpsed it suddenly in the grip of a green hand, as Michaelangelo went skidding across the floor on his back. Then Leonardo was on his back, Splinter in a crouched stance over him, the stick in Splinter's hands braced at Leo's throat. Splinter leaped back, tilted his head at Leo, and raised an admonishing finger.

"You would be dead, now, my son," said Splinter.

Raphael took advantage of the lull to grab the distracted Donatello by the wrist and move as though to throw him, only Don ducked under Raphael's arm, and wrenching down on it, broke the hold. I thought for a moment he broke his arm, as well, but after an initial startled grunt, Raphael stood shaking his arm and looking annoyed.

"Foul," panted Raphael.

"You fouled me," replied Donatello hoarsely.

"GAAHH!" Raphael roared, leaping at Don and sending them both crashing to the ground.

It was short-lived. Splinter snapped out a command and all four were on their feet, bowing to their respective partners and then to Splinter. They stood quietly at attention, their sides heaving with the exertion.

"This has been an excellent opportunity for you all to observe how you lose concentration in the presence of distraction," said Splinter. "Review this practice in your minds. It is very important you reflect upon your performance today, or the lesson will be lost, and of no value."

He said something else, this time in Japanese again, and they all bowed again. As Splinter turned away from them, they all looked expectantly at me. I guessed it was sort of silly to think I could have sat there unnoticed. Silently I mouthed "Wow" to them. If they had been distracted, and putting in a bad practice, I surely couldn't tell. And if they wanted to be sure I was impressed, I had no problem with letting them know I was. I stood as they approached.

''Splinter," I said. "I'm sorry if I was a distraction and messed up this practice."

"On the contrary," Splinter smiled. "You created this practice."

"Breakfast!" announced Mike and shot me his winning smile.

"I didn't foul you," Raphael was still arguing with Don. "Hey, Lia! What'd you think?"

"I think you guys are really incredible," I said. "I've never seen anything like what you do." I noticed Leonardo still in the center of the practice room, his back to us, head bowed. I looked to Splinter, questioning.

"He will stay a while longer," said Splinter. "Come, child." I followed everyone else out, noticing I felt a little disappointed that Leo was staying behind.


	15. Chapter 15

The young woman sat very still and straight in her chair. Her pale face, her delicate mouth pressed closed, her black almond eyes, were as immobile and unyielding as the porcelain doll she resembled. Her black hair was drawn up in the full style of a geisha, and she wore a shimmering peacock blue kimono. She alone sat in a chair, above those who flanked her, kneeling upon cushions. Eight men, swathed in black clothing with nothing visible to verify their humanity save their eyes, which peered out from beneath black hoods, sat on either side of her. Before each one lay an unsheathed katana, the blade facing the owner. The sparse decor of the small room, four paper screens of a pale eggshell color, framed in lacquered black, seemed only to intensify the stillness. The woman and her eight men faced the strangers.

These men seemed strange to her, not like the other Americans she had met in this country. They did not talk too loud and smile too much, they stood still, at attention. The tall, fair-haired man who placed himself a little forward of the others, who introduced himself as their Master, commanded a presence in the small room, a presence strongly reminiscent of another she had known.

The Master took a step forward, and bowed low, his eyes on the woman in the chair. "Madame Yurikiki," he spoke, his voice rich and deep. "Thank you for allowing us this audience. It is my hope that when we are through speaking we may come to a beneficial business association. I appreciate your taking the time to honor me with your attention to this matter." The Master watched the woman's face for any sign of acknowledgement, and seeing none, went on.

"I learned only two days ago of our mutual interest in certain anomalous entities residing in the vicinity of New York City. As these entities present an inconvenience to both our organizations, I am proposing we join together towards a mutual end. I trust you have been told that my organization was able to produce these creatures for your people's observation at the appointed place?"

The young woman turned to the man at her right hand and they conferred in Japanese. She turned back to the strangers. "What was reported to me," she said in low, soft, tones, "was that the parcel was removed from it's place by unseen hands."

The Master inclined his head ever so slightly and fixed his gaze into her dark eyes. "I see. Can you tell me, in your experience, who would be capable of removing this parcel from a public phone booth, unseen by even your highly skilled Ninja?"

The woman raised her chin, whether in anger or offense, it was not possible for the Master to discern, but he was aware he had gotten a reaction. He smiled inwardly. The hook was baited.

"Please, allow me to propose a plan to you which will serve both our ends. May I approach?"

The woman regarded him for a long moment before lowering her head ever so slightly in consent.

"Madame," he spoke. "With your permission I will speak plainly." He didn't wait for her permission. "My wife had gone astray, she is a confused and troubled young woman, and while I have gone to great lengths to help her overcome her difficulties, she remains unstable. I desire her return. It would seem she has now employed the services of your great enemies. You want the four creatures, I want her. They are together somewhere in the city.

"What I wish from you is information: all you can offer me with regards to these creatures, their weaknesses, their strengths, their habits. And I would ask for aid in the form of trained manpower, to help hone the skills and offer back-up to my students. For you see, I have a plan, and I have the bait, which will bring them to my door, in essence, deliver them to you on their knees, to dispose of as you wish. You will acquire what you want, and I will reclaim my wife." Skylord leaned forward, fixing the young woman in the hypnotic, cold blue of his eyes. "That is what you want, is it not?"

She raised her head higher, her face a cold mask in it's own right. "What I _want,_" she hissed low, from some hate-ravaged place inside her, "is the "_head _of the one called Leonardo."

Leonardo sat perfectly still in the center of the workout room, in full lotus, hands upturned on his knees, eyes half-closed and unfocussed, following his breath as it moved in and out of his body. His intention was to still his mind, even if it meant at first only tracking where it went, and with firm persistence, bring it back under his conscious control. He was not having a lot of success.

He had already put in two extra hours of empty-handed katas, and then worked with sword forms for three more hours more, over and over, until every muscle in his back and shoulders and arms burned. While striving for physical perfection in the execution of the katas was always his goal, he knew the searing pain in his lungs, and the deep burning in his limbs, helped to exorcise his demons. Today though, there were feelings and images he could not seem to purge no matter how he punished his body.

Part of the problem, Leonardo realized, was that it was not a demon he was trying to drive out of his consciousness today.

He sat for a long time, focusing and refocusing when his mind strayed, remembering not to berate himself, as he so often did, but to do as Splinter suggested, and view all thoughts without judgment, as information. Eventually his awareness of the room began to melt away, leaving only space. The space grew gradually timeless, he could no longer feel his body, as a familiar, and pleasantly warm sort of paralysis took over. His breath rose and fell, and he moved into the place where nothing existed but himself, a bright light of consciousness, and he was filled with the bliss of his own beingness. All still, all centered in quiet, where joy lives, the place just before being and ego begin to dissolve and all that would remain is the joy...

Happiness...and her green child's eyes gazing into his...and her breath rising and falling on his bed where she lay sleeping and he watched her for...hours...

Leonardo squeezed his eyes shut tight, fighting the vision, fighting the warmth rising in his reawakened body. And then he remembered: _non-resistance, just allow this, allow this to pass. Follow your breath again, Leonardo. Do it again..._

The next two days passed by with agonizing slowness. The turtles went out at night late, came in sometime around dawn, slept until noon, then practiced with Splinter in the work-out room for hours at a time. Leonardo especially seemed to spend all of his time in training, though from the comments made by his brothers, it would seem that this was his normal routine. To me, he seemed driven.

I wandered into the living room in the late afternoon, anxiety propelling me aimlessly around the lair. I could feel Alex's deadline closing in on me. I hadn't even seen Raphael sitting in the overstuffed chair until he cleared his throat. He regarded me coolly for a moment, running one finger thoughtfully over his mouth. "Don't let it eat you," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Fear," he said. "Fear will eat you if you let it."

I sat on the couch. He continued to watch me. I looked down. "How do you know that?" I asked.

"What? How do I know that about you?" he said. "It's obvious."

I wasn't sure how happy I was with Raphael being able to see through me. His own darkness made him so unreadable, like deep, dark water. "What about you?" I asked. "Fear doesn't eat you, does it?"

He looked away for a moment, and then turned back to me, the beginning of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No, not fear. But I've been told..." He surveyed the ceiling for a moment. "My emotions are my downfall."

"Anger?" I asked.

He looked at me, the tug at the corner of his mouth a little higher. "You have been paying attention, haven't you?"

"Anger eats you," I said.

"So I have been told."

Sometime around 11:30 the phone rang. The sound of a ringing phone was so foreign at first I didn't know what it was. No one was around. The turtles had gone out on their nightly foray, and Splinter was cloistered away, I assumed in his room. I answered the phone. It was Adeline and she sounded dreadful.

"Lia," she said, her voice slow and thick. "I need to talk to you. Something terrible has happened."

"What happened? I've been trying to reach you for days. What's wrong?"

"Days?" she asked. "What's today?"

"It's Thursday," I answered, feeling more alarmed. "What's wrong?"

Thursday..." she repeated. Hmm...well, n'sure...but...uh...I came down to my office here, I wanted to find something...but I can't find it. It's...uh...your book. An' it's gone."

"What do you mean it's gone?"

"I mean, it's gone. S'not here... anywhere. Th' file's gone...the disc it was trans- transcribed onto was gone...an' honey, i's jus' gone!"

"Adeline... have you been drinking?"

"Hm, well I guess I've been drunk for three days now...but tha's not the thing...It's that I need to find out...I don't think you ever said, and I need to know...what did your husband look like?"

My heart was starting to thud. "Why? He's 6'5...very blond, almost white hair, blue eyes, moustache, muscular, really big...why?"

Adeline was quiet for a moment. "Hmmmmm..." she finally hummed. "He's very beautiful, isn't he?"

"Oh my gosh...have you seen him?"

"Uuuuh, well, I've been with him for...a while now..." she slurred.

I was starting to shake. "What do you mean-?"

"I mean I've been with him, here, an' at my apartment, and...Lia, I'm afraid of him. I'm very afraid..."

"Ok, ok, hold on-!" I hurried to Splinter's door. Normally I'd have never dreamed of disturbing him, but this was an emergency. He didn't respond to my knock, nor to my calling to him. I cautiously opened the door. The light from the living room revealed a darkened, empty room. Where in the world could he be? Was I really all alone in the Lair? I had to help Adeline. I had no doubt that her life was in real danger. I returned to the phone. "Where are you?" I asked.

"My office. Where are you?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," I answered, realizing how lame that sounded. "Look, can I meet you somewhere? Maybe I could bring you here...or...uh, if I can talk to my friends..." I knew this plan was impractical at best. I had no idea how to get anywhere from wherever I was, and I knew I couldn't really bring anyone down here, and I knew I couldn't reveal to Adeline anything about who my friends really were. Maybe I could write them a note.

"Lia, honey, can you get to the 59th Street Terminal? It's near where we had lunch. We'll have to hurry though. The trains are about to stop running."

"Yeah, I'll be there..."

I wrote the turtles a note, grabbed my bag, managed to get the door open, and took off through the dark tunnel. The plan in my mind was embryonic, but if they could meet us at the subway station somewhere, the turtles would know what to do.

Skylord smiled a thin, ironic smile at Samuel, who glanced up at him. The speakers hissed with the disconnection. "Very good. We can work with this. Let's see what Madame Yurikiki's Ninja are made of, heh?"

It took me for ever to find a way out of the sewers. When I finally did, I hailed a cab. The driver assured me in an almost impossible New Delhi accent that the subway had stopped running hours ago. He also took all the money I had brought

The next part I don't remember very well. I had hurried down the stairs to the station, avoiding the headlights and the streetlight's halo as best I could. Two figures had emerged from the shadows by the closed steel gate at the bottom of the stairs. They said something to me, and started in my direction, so I had turned to run back up to the street. Someone grabbed me, and I screamed and kicked, and there were lights, and men's voices, and then a blinding pain in the side of my head, and stars, and darkness.


	16. Chapter 16

"Well, whatever it was that happened here, we missed it."

"This is great! This is just terrific!"

"Ya know what Donnie? One of these days you guys are gonna learn to listen to me!"

Leonardo was silent as his brothers hissed their whispered frustration in the sheltering shadows below the subway stairs that led to street level. It was still long before dawn. They had retired early in the night, at Leonardo's urging, which was unusual. Something had tugged at the back of his mind, though, something like a whisper of uneasiness, and he wanted to get back home. Finding Lia's note on the table reaffirmed his faith in his own intuition, and sent them flying back out through the night, north toward Central Park.

"She could be anywhere! This is so stupid! Whatever possessed her to leave again? After what happened the other day, I thought she understood-" Donatello was close to working himself into a rare anger. "Now what? We have to look for both of them!"

"I'd say something freaked her out," suggested Michaelangelo.

"I told you guys!" Raphael went on. "I took one look at that chick and I knew she was trouble."

"Heh, you took more than one look..." said Mike.

"Yeah, yeah, you should talk, Mike. At least I didn't say, 'Oh, there's a fine babe, let's bring her into our home and maybe one of us will get lucky...' "

"I didn't say _that_!" protested Mike.

"You gonna tell me you didn't think it?"

"Sounds a lot more like you, Raph," Don muttered.

"Oh, yeah, that's our Raph, turtle-about-town," teased Mike.

"Well, if_ anyone_ has a chance..." Raphael stuck out his chest, his grin cocky.

"It sure isn't you," finished Mike with an innocent batting of his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean-?"

"You know what I mean-"

"Shhh!" Leonardo was sniffing the air. "Someone's here-" he whispered low. The four fell silent, and melted further into the darkness.

"Hey, hello there!" It was a boy's voice, coming from above them. "Hey, I know you're down there! Talk to me!"

Damn, thought Leonardo.

The boy's shoes scuffed down the stairs. The steel gates rattled as he easily slipped through the bars and looked around, standing in the glare of the electric lights. "Come on," he said. "Where are you? I got what you want..." he was young, perhaps ten years old, slight, and dressed in rags all of one color. His brown hair was a tangle of long waves. He looked around. "Why are you hiding?" he asked . "I already know you're down here, and I know who you're lookin' for 'cause I saw it all go down." He turned a full circle, a small dark figure in the tiled white of the empty subway station.

"You're lookin' for the chick with red hair, right? And I can tell you where she is...but, oh, well..." The boy turned and started back up the stairs.

Michaelangelo did his best to throw his voice. "So where is she?"

The boy stopped, cocked his head and smiled a little. "For a price..."

"What do you want?"

"What do you got?"

"Jack, dude, but we really need to know what happened to her, if you really know."

"Oh, I know." The boy was walking slowly around the end of the stairwell, moving in their direction. "The question is, what's it worth to_ you_ to know-?"

Raphael pushed his way past his brothers, caught the kid up by his shirt and shoved him aloft against a support pillar. "No. The question is, how long are we gonna let you fuck around with us before we just get what we want outta you!"

Suspended above ground, caught in Raphael's iron grip, and confronted with his enraged non-human face, the boy momentarily lost his cool. "Yaaugh! Lemme go! Ack! What-wha-" He stopped and squinted at the turtle. "Whoa-I know who you guys are!"

"You don't know us-" said Raphael between clenched teeth.

"Yeah, I do. You're like these four big turtles that live underground. Some of the Mole People told me about you."

Now Raph was taken aback. "The Moles told you about us.?"

"Some of 'em. You live on their turf."

Michaelangelo emerged from the stairwell. "Well, ya seen one mutant turtle, ya seen 'em all." He was followed by a reluctant Leo and Don. Mike joined Raphael and eyed the kid, still pinned against the pillar. "Are you a Mole?" he asked him.

"Hell, no," said the kid."I live in the park."

"What's your name, dude?" asked Mike, as Raphael snorted in dismay at the suddenly nice turn his interrogation had taken.

"They call me Dodger Sean."

"So, Sean-dude," said Mike. "You can see we weren't kidding when we said we haven't got cash, or barter material..."

"You know how to use those?" interrupted Dodger Sean, pointing to the nunchakus stuck in Mike's belt.

Mike tilted his head and scratched his cheek, grinning. "If you've talked to the Moles you probably know the answer to that one."

"You wanna talk deal?"

"I'm listening," said Mike.

At that point Raphael dropped the kid with a disgusted hiss and turned his back. Sean scrambled to his feet. "Lessons," he said.

"Lessons?"

"Yeah. I wanna know what you know."

"Dude, we've been doing this for a long time..."

"I got lots of time."

Mike crossed his arms. "You ever do any kind of fighting? Any martial arts?"

Raphael had wandered further up the platform. Leonardo and Donatello stood back a few feet, watching the interaction, and scanning for other intruders.

"Check this out," Sean reached into his jacket and produced a hollow black tube and several small darts.

"Blow gun, huh?" said Mike. "Where'd you get that?"

"Chinatown. Darts are tipped with Chow-fen. Look, I've had a guy teach me some stuff, Kung-fu or somethin', and plus I've been on the streets since I was eight. I can learn whatever you show me."

"Ok, ok. But like we're really booked this week. I'll tell ya what. You stay in Central Park?"

Sean nodded.

"I'll find you." Mike glanced back at his brothers. "So, now you tell me, what happened here with the girl?"

"Who is she?" asked Sean.

"She's a friend."

"She your old lady?"

"No, she's a friend. Now you gonna tell me what happened?" Mike moved in a little closer, resting one arm on the pillar, closing Sean in. Raphael had turned around and was walking purposefully in their direction.

Sean caught the movement and had the good sense to realize he had milked the situation all he could. "Ok," he said. "I saw this chick, running down the stairs, looking all frantic and calling to someone. These two guys were hiding down here, all dressed in black. They went after her and ran back up the stairs, and one of 'em grabbed her and she started screaming' and I was hiding up there, ya know, 'cause I had seen the cops-"

"Cops?" asked Leonardo stepping closer.

"Yeah, cops, NYPD. They come by this way every four hours usually. I know their beat. Anyway, these two dudes gotta be dumb as bricks, 'cause they didn't see 'em. They had this chick down on the stairs, and she's screamin' and one of 'em smashes her head into the bricks, and then the cops are on 'em like white on rice, and then there's another patrol car, and an ambulance, and that poor chick, man, she was out. I mean, she might have been dead, except they took off fast in the ambulance and if it's a stiff, ya know, they just take their time." Sean was very wrapped up in his story-telling and didn't notice the effect his last comment had had on the four turtles.

"Where did they take her?" asked Leonardo with slow deliberation.

"St. Luke's Hospital."

"Are you sure?"

"That's where the driver said they were taking her. And the cops were going there, too. I think they were going to arrest her."

There was momentary glance exchanged between the four turtles before they turned and dashed up the stairway, bare feet silent, to the street above where already the drone of traffic was mounting.

"Hey-!" shouted Sean.

"Catch ya in the Park, dude!" yelled Michaelangelo.

I was slipping in and out of consciousness, drifting, dream-like somewhere. At one point I remember opening my eyes and seeing I was in a bed, with white sheets, a curtain hung in front to me, and I could hear an intercom somewhere, and footsteps in linoleum. My head hurt terribly. Something was hooked up to one arm, and both were strapped down. I figured out I was in a hospital.

After a while a nurse had come in and asked me some questions, and then a doctor, who introduced himself as Dr. Chin. They wanted to know my name, and what year it was, and who was president. They sat me up, and the doctor checked me everywhere, shining a penlight in my eyes, and checking my temple which throbbed when he touched it.

"What's wrong with me?" I finally asked when I could organize some questions of my own.

"Concussion. Quite a little bump on the head there," answered the doctor. "But you're going to be just fine." He stepped out for a moment and returned with a ruddy-faced policewoman whom he introduced as Officer McGee. She informed me I was being held in protective custody until the detective could come down and question me.

"Am I being protected?" I asked.

"The law provides a 72 hour period in which you can be held before any formal charges are made, Miss Hanrahan. Due to the nature of the case, and the fact that multiple homicides are involved, there will be a police officer posted outside your door at all times."

"So, am I being arrested?" I asked, my head pounding. Multiple homicides? What were they talking about?

"Not a this time. The investigators will make that determination after they have had a chance to speak with you." She went out, leaving me spinning with confusion. I couldn't remember how I got there, or anything in the previous 24 hours...or for that matter, how did I get to..._what town am I in?_

The nurse came back into my room, checked the plastic bag that was connected to my left arm with a tube, and poured me a glass of water, and held the straw in place for me. I took it gratefully. "You're a lucky girl," she said. "Good thing the police were there when you got jumped, huh? New York is probably a little rougher than San Francisco," she went on conversationally. "Young girls shouldn't hang around subway stations in the middle of the night..."

Subway stations? Oh! The subway-! Adeline! Dear Goddess, the turtles-! It was like remembering a dream-Rose!

"Excuse me, ma'am..." I said, my mind racing. "What day is this?"

The nurse smiled. "It's Friday..."

"I have to get out of here!" I blurted.

"Well, honey, I don't think you're going to be going anywhere for awhile. You want to sit up a bit, watch some TV.?" She raised the head of the bed up a little so I was more upright. "That's not gonna make you dizzy is it?"

"No, no, I mean...no TV., please." I had to think.

"Well, here's the remote if you change your mind," She set it on the tray, and went out the door.

I took a survey of my situation. I was lying in a hospital room the location of which I had not a clue, strapped down, and hooked up to an I.V. There was no phone. I was dressed only in thin cloth gown, which was entirely open in the back, and my rings. I had no idea where my clothes were, or my day pack bag. I was looking around for a buzzer to call the nurse back in so I could ask her where my things were, when one walked in. He was male, Asian, dressed in standard hospital green, and he didn't smile.

He came around to my right and took down the plasma bag and replaced it with another, efficiently reconnecting the plastic tubes. He checked the needle in my left hand, and refastened and tightened the strap that held my right arm.

"Do I still need that?" I asked.

"Umhm," he answered without looking at me.

"Um, I was wondering, where did they put my stuff? I had a pack, and my clothes..?"

In response the nurse produced a hypodermic needle, drew fluid from the cap of a small glass jar, and tapping the tip of the needle, approached my right arm.

"What's that for?" I asked, feeling a little nervous.

"Make you feel better," he answered in a heavy accent. He still didn't smile.

"I mean, what is it?"

"Medicine," he replied.

I started to try to sit up, alarmed. That was not a very professional answer. "Wait-!"

The nurse grabbed my arm, twisting it toward him and locking my elbow, trapping my arm in his. He jammed the needle into my exposed vein. "Hey!" I yelped, but I couldn't get my other arm free to shove him, or the needle away.

The injection hit my body in a rush, and the room swayed and swooped dizzyingly. I felt my stomach lurch, and then everything went black.


	17. Chapter 17

The waning moon had crested the tallest buildings and was gliding slowly across the sky, her light eclipsed by the brilliance of New York's evening glow.

Two shadows hung beneath the ramp way that led to a large truck bay behind St. Lukes' Community Hospital. In an adjacent parking lot a security guard slowly cruised by, looking, and seeing nothing. The shadow who was Raphael jerked his head as the patrol car passed by, and the two silently emerged from below the ramp, stole across a lit area to the hospital building, and slipped under a part-way opened roll-down steel door.

Inside the truck bay was a warehouse with a forklift and empty crates and containers. Two fluorescent lights burned in the empty structure. Above on a loading dock, another door promised access. The lock yielded to Raphael's prying sai, and with Michaelangelo muttering something about pitiful security, the two ducked into another storage room lined with shelves packed with various medical supplies in boxes.

"Not much here of value," said Raphael, surveying the rows of shelves. "Lots of paper."

"Hey, look," Michaelangelo pulled down a large box. "Paper gowns, paper masks..."

"Hah!" Raphael hauled down another box. "Paper gloves, paper footies.."

"Ready-made disguises-disposable even!"

The two set about garbing themselves in powder blue paper outfits.

"Aaaarrrhhh!" growled Mike, raising his arms monster-style. "It Came From Beyond the Recycling Center."

"Very scary, Mike," acknowledged Raphael. "Look, let's take this service cart and trashcan, too, so it looks like we're doin' something."

"Let's hope we don't actually meet up with anyone," said Mike, gazing down at his huge paper-wrapped feet. "I think we might still look a little strange."

"Nah, ya think?" He narrowed his eyes at the five foot tall turtle before him wrapped in sterilized blue paper. "No way. We're totally cool..."

They rode the elevator up to the first floor, and happily found the main lobby empty. With Mike's guidance they also snagged the Rolodex from the empty switchboard operator's desk.

"How'd you know that?" asked Raphael, finding Lia's name and room number on one of the cards.

"Hundreds of hours logged in front of 'General Hospital.'"

"I'm impressed. An' here I though you were just tryin' to rot your brain. Hey, what do you think SEC stands for? Security?"

"Probably," said Mike. "If the cops were involved, there may be a guard up there. There always is on 'Chicago Hope'."

"Ok, let's go." Raphael paused and considered the large plastic trash can. "One of us ought to hide in this, in case we have to surprise someone."

Michaelangelo looked disgusted. "Oh, and I suppose that someone is me?"

"You're shorter."

"I am not!"

"Get in the can, pal..."

Donatello and Leonardo stood in the relative darkened shadow behind an air conditioning unit on one of the lower wings of the hospital. The various wings of the building radiated out from two central taller structures, creating different roof heights, like children's' blocks of different sizes. They surveyed the wall of windows; most of them darkened, on one side, and the other tall, featureless wall that stretched between them and the highest rooftop.

"We should get up there," said Leonardo. "Give us a little better perspective."

"I hope Mike and Raph hustle it." Donatello turned and looked over the parking lot. "I have a funny feeling about this."

"Hm...me, too..." Leonardo's eyes were narrowed as he concentrated to the rooftop above them. "Don-Look!" he spat out suddenly, pointing above them to the right. Dark figures could be seen creeping over the edge of the roof, and dropping down on ropes. In one fluid movement, the two turtles glided deeper into shadow.

"I think it's a little late for visiting hours," whispered Don. "Who do you suppose they are?"

"Well, regardless of what we 'know' to be true, by their dogis, and by their movements, I'm calling them Foot!" hissed Leonardo between his teeth. "Let's get up there-!"

The two circled the air conditioning box, crouching low, and ran the brief exposed distance to the corner of the building where the two structures formed a corner and rose up another three stories. Leonardo unfastened the grappling hook from his belt and swung it around.

"They'll hear that hit-" cautioned Donatello.

Leonardo shook his head and let the hook fly. It bit the overhead ledge of the fire escape platform just as a blast of steam noisily escaped a vent on the rooftop above. "I was timing that: every two and a half minutes, like Old Faithful."

One at a time they shinnied up ten feet of rope, and then silently ascended the next two flights of the iron fire escape. Once on the highest of the three roof levels, they were able to view from above the movements of the men rappelling off the hospital wall below them. Two of the men remained on the rooftop directly below, watching their companions. The other seven scaled down the walls, nimble as spiders. Two who had reached the third floor up from the ground were taking hold of the ledges and converging on one particular window.

The two turtles looked at one another. "They want Lia, alright..." whispered Don.

"What they're getting is us!" growled Leonardo.

There was no fire escape on the wall that dropped to the rooftop where the two men stood, peering over the edge . The turtles played out the grappling hook line and then jumped ten feet, landing as lightly as possible. Both men turned, alerted by the vibration, and despite their black masks, showed utter astonishment and horror at the sight of the two turtles. Before they could even draw their katana, Leo and Don leaped at them, cracking their heads into the low wall around the rooftop.

"Surprise!" hissed Don, at the unconscious men, more with unspent adrenaline than humor.

The turtles each grabbed one of the four ropes, following the Foot over the ledge of the building. The men on the other end of the ropes looked up and started shouting when they realized some one else was on the rope with them. Leonardo reached over his shoulder, unsheathed a sword and continued his descent with one hand.. Donatello kicked hard away from the wall and the man on the lower end of his rope attempted to cling to the brick work around a window. The man lost his footing on the ledge, grabbing frantically onto the rope. He was swung out, spinning by one hand, and then knocked back up against the wall, lost his hold, and fell three stories to the sidewalk below.

The man below Leonardo began climbing back up, hand over hand, toward Leo, who, loosening his grip, slid rapidly down to meet him. Two feet beyond the man's reach, Leo stopped, wrapping his legs around the rope, and sliced it off just below his feet. The man below dropped like a rock. Leo watched him fall, and then looked above him at Don. Two men were creeping along the brick work toward him, katana drawn.

"Don, you've got two bogies!"

"You've got two yourself!" answered Donatello.

One Foot was swinging his rope laterally along the face of the hospital wall, trying to get close to where Leo was hanging. Another was approaching from the ledge.

Donatello swung his bo free from his belt and caught the man closest to him under his sword arm, prying him off the wall. The man made a wild lunge with his sword just before he screamed and fell. The second man above him leaped out and down, landing on the turtle's chest, straddling him and swinging his katana somewhat awkwardly at Don's head. Don struggled to anchor his feet around the rope to free both hands. He caught his attackers sword in one hand, one finger clenched around the hilt guard, the other caught against the blade. He was going to have to release the blade, or lose a finger, and at the same time he fought to reposition his staff with the other hand. He couldn't remain upright, and in flipping over upside down, his assailant fell off of him, man and weapon plunging to the concrete.

"Well, whatever works.." muttered Don, as he caught the rope with his bleeding hand, righting himself. The cut was deep into the pad of his palm, but he still had all three fingers. He looked down for Leonardo.

One of the two men visible on the ledge had swung out a kusara kama, and was spinning the blade as he approached Leo . The other had drawn a katana, and crouching low along the decorative brickwork. Leonardo had pulled himself up a few feet to gain an advantage when he suddenly found himself spinning wildly on the rope. He looked up and between himself and Donatello another Ninja-clad man had grabbed the rope and set him in motion. He, too, drew a katana, with the apparent intention of cutting Leonardo's rope once he was done playing with him.

The kama snaked out, just missing Leonardo's face as he ducked. With a sweep and a twist of his katana, he captured the chain, jerked it taut, and sent it's owner off the edge to join his fellows on the sidewalk below. At that moment the closest man leaped on Leonardo, landing on his back, as he spun out of control. He clung to the turtle's paired sheaths, like some great black octopus, slashing wildly with his sword as the two spun and tilted in space. The man above, apparently having second thoughts about cutting a rope with one of his own now attached, shinnied rapidly down it, a dagger drawn.. He landed nearly on Leonardo's face, half-blinding him in the folds of his garment.

The katana found it's mark, and bit deep into Leonardo's shoulder, though not his throat, as was the intention. A second attempt lodged into the ridge of Leo's carapace and stuck fast. With his right hand still holding his katana, Leo secured his hold on the rope and ran the blade through the man above him before the dagger struck.. With his left he reached back and caught his attacker on his back by the hand in a bone-crushing grip. He peeled the man from his back. "Get off of me!" he snarled and with a quick jerk, released the horrified man into open space.

One more man remained clinging to the hospital wall. "Hey, Genius!" taunted Donatello who had kicked off again from the wall was bearing down on the man who stood, katana at ready to cut Leo's rope. The man looked up, repositioned his sword, and stabbed at Don as we swung in close. Below, Leonardo had a moment to regroup. He pried the embedded katana out of his carapace and dropped it to the ground with it's owner. His left arm was weak; he switched hands and pulled himself higher with his good arm.

The last man had deflected Donatello's staff with his sword, and sent Don off at an angle. He was waiting for his return swing when he felt the tip of a cold steel blade at his throat. Leonardo faced him, one foot on the ledge, still gripping the rope, bleeding, his face distorted with fury. The man gasped, nearly lost his footing, and stared back, frozen.

"Drop your weapon," said Leonardo, slowly, his breath labored. The man did so immediately. It clanged and echoed faintly on the sidewalk below. "You may go now and live a coward's long life." The man nodded, looking panicked. With a slight tip of his head Leonardo indicated a rope dangling three feet away. "You can take that one..." he suggested. The man scrabbled crab-like, reached for the rope, slid down it until it ran out, then dropped a story, yelled in pain and rolled. Donatello landed neatly next to his brother. The turtles watched the man stand unsteadily and then hobble off.

"I count seven," said Leonardo, surveying the broken and dying men below.

Donatello looked at Leo's shoulder. "You're cut bad."

Leonardo gritted his teeth against the pain and shook his head in a refusal to acknowledge it. "Let's see if there's any more of them around here."

The elevator took Raphael and Michaelangelo and their trash bin to the second floor and stopped.

"Hey! Hey! Third floor!" growled Raphael, hitting the button again. The door opened and an orderly began pushing an empty gurney in next to Raphael's service cart.

"No! No way, man!" cried Raphael, shoving the gurney right back out. "This is an emergency-wait till the next ride!" He hit the Close Door button and the elevator closed in the face of the astonished orderly.

"What's happening?" asked Michaelangelo from inside the plastic trash can.

"Nothing. No problem," said Raphael.

"It stinks in here, Raph. Smells like antiseptic."

"Could be worse...a lot worse."

At the third floor the service elevator opened into the intersection of three brightly lit hallways. To their right a lone nurse stood behind the counter of a nursing station, looking down. Raphael wheeled to the left, following room numbers. The hall turned to the left at the end, and was darker. Halfway down a solitary policeman stood guard in front of one of the rooms.

"Mike," whispered Raphael to the trash can. "We have to take out one cop."

"We're gonna hit a cop?' Mike sounded horrified.

"You are."

"Heh. Oh, I got it! Jack-in-the-Box from hell!"

"You got it. He's standing about 6'3", leaning against the wall, on the right. I'll signal when he's at three o'clock."

Raphael wheeled the service cart down the hall. The police officer glanced up sleepily as he approached, then looked again, squinting. He pulled away from the wall, looking hard at the strange apparition coming at him.

Raphael couldn't resist a boisterous "Howdy!" as he drew up near.

"Wha-?" cried the cop, staring into Raphael's green, red and blue-swathed face.

"He said 'Howdy'!" repeated Mike, popping out of the trashcan and landing a punch square into the officer's jaw. The uniformed man keeled over limp as a rag. "Gee, I feel kinda bad about this..." said Mike gazing down at him.

Raphael was on the door. "It's locked-!"

"Keys-keys-keys-" Michaelangelo rattled through the fallen policeman's key ring, jerked it off his belt and threw it to his brother. They heard rapid footsteps coming down the far hall as Raphael found the right key and they ducked into the room, closing the door behind them.

The darkened room seemed empty at first, there was no sound from the still form on the bed.

"Hey," said Raphael. "Hey, Lia!"

Michaelangelo went to the bed and looked down at her, lying still as death. He gently shook her shoulder. "Lia?" He looked at his brother. "What do you think's the matter with her?" he asked.

"Beats me. What's all this crap?" Raphael pointed to the plasma bag and tubes running fluid into Lia's vein.

"Someone's at the door-" Mike reached across the bed. "Let's just get this gizmo off and hit it-they're gonna know the cop is off duty!" He peeled the tape off Lia's hand, carefully extracted the needle and unstrapped her arm. "Whatever it is, she'll be better off in Splinter's care."

Raphael turned to the door just as it burst open. Two men in green hospital scrubs and surgical masks rushed in.

"Oh, wow," grinned Michaelangelo over his shoulder. "You guys must have the same tailor we do!"

"Hey!" said one. "I am the doctor-what are you doing in here?"

"Like fun you're a doctor!" Raphael was in motion, leaping at them with a side kick that sent both back against the wall with a resounding crash. Mike gathered the unconscious Lia in his arms and headed for the door as Raphael finished the visiting doctors. Mike stopped short at the door and jumped back slamming it with his foot.

"Hey, Raph, there's more folks out there outfitted by Central Supply!"

"Window-!" barked Raphael kicking aside the very still doctors aside and hauling the hospital bed over to barricade the door. "This'll only slow 'em down-"

With Lia in his arms, Michaelangelo sprang to the window, ripped down the blinds, opened the small rectangular glass and popped out the screen. The hospital bed proved to be a very ineffective barricade, and Raphael found himself facing three men who made no attempt at pretense. They were dressed in the black dogis that marked them as Ninja, and had nearly pressed their way into the room, blades drawn. Raphael leaped onto the bed, caught the first man's katana with one sai, and ripped into his abdomen with the other. He threw him back onto his companions in the partway open door. Down the hall the alarm sounded, and more voices could be heard, along with the intercom calling for for security to Three West.

"Mike-window?" Raphael shouted again. He captured the second man's katana blade with both sai as it whizzed through the air, aimed for his head. He held it off until he could get his feet under him on the soft bed, kicked the man in the crotch, and then drove his sai in under his ribs.

"Come on!" yelled Michaelangelo.

Raphael kicked the door, smashing the third man's head in it and dove for the window. He squeezed out the narrow opening, his carapace scraping the aluminum window frame. Raphael righted himself carefully, and toes clinging to the narrow ledge outside, anchored one sai into a crevice in the mortar. "Hand her to me-" he rasped.

"You sure?" asked Mike.

"Now!"

Michaelangelo passed Lia through the window to his brother who gripped her around the waist in the crook of his elbow. Lia moved a little, swimming through the drugged sleep. The crash of the bed being toppled aside behind him sent Michaelangelo squirming out the window as well. Clinging finger and toe to the uneven and rotting brickwork around the windows, they made their way twenty feet to a service ladder, and from there, to meet with their brothers on the rooftop, and then to fade away into the night.


	18. Chapter 18

"Dammit all to _Hell!" _roared Alexander Skylord.

The small gathering of people seated on the floor around the low table cringed, even those dressed in black and bearing weapons. The huge picture window behind him shook with Skylord's fury, so the night-lit skyline blurred. Skylord's fist swept a bottle of wine and a half-full glass off the table in front of him, and sent it smashing into the wall.

"Yurikiki! Your Ninja are imbeciles! Incompetents! All of you!" he pointed an accusing finger to each of the men at the table. Yurikiki sat very still, eyes down her face a frozen mask, only her slightly rapid breath revealing what she may be feeling. "I handed those creatures to you! All but gift-wrapped! And not only did they slip through your bumbling fingers, you allowed them to escape with _my wife_! Arrgh!" Skylord turned away, breathing hard, struggling for control. He turned back, head lowered, as he gazed out at the assembly from beneath furious white brows.

"Now you will listen to me. Now we will do it exactly as I say." His tone was slow and measured now. "I will keep my part of the bargain, and I will make it possible for you to keep yours , in spite of yourselves."

Yurikiki raised her eyes to Skylord's her lips parted as if she meant to speak. He didn't let her.

"I know, Madame, too well, what you would say now. You would tell me again, piteously, that all the good men are dead. That those creatures killed the best the Foot ever saw. That these young recruits you have had in training were not really ready to face the enemy. And I will ask you, Madame, that if those dead men were any better than those in this room, why are they dead now?"

Yurikiki's eyes flashed and her mouth snapped shut.

"Oh, forgive me, Madame. Have I profaned a sacred cow?" Skylord's brutal smile curved his perfect mouth. "You should know, having profaned that bond you claim to hold so dear, yourself."

Yurikiki's cheeks colored with humiliation. She sat very still for a long moment, then spoke. "Perhaps the enemy cannot be killed. Perhaps they are truly kappa."

One of the Ninja rose, and silently moved around the table until he stood before where Yurikiki sat. He knelt before her, said something low, and presented her with a blood-stained katana. She took it, studying the stains on it, and then looked up at Skylord where he stood over them all.

"Tomei says this is the sword of his brother, who was killed by the demons last night. He says that before he died, his brother cut one of the demons. This is it's blood on the sword."

Skylord straightened. "Give it to me." Yurikiki stood slowly, moving like fluid in her graceful kimono. She gave Skylord the weapon with two hands, and bowed low. "Stay here," he told her, and then faced the others. "We meet back here in three hours. You will be told what is required of you. I have preparations to make. You might pray to your gods that the blood on this weapon belongs to the same one whose voice we have captured on tape. That much at least you can do. Now go."

When the men had left the room, slipping out quietly, Skylord turned his full attention to the young woman kneeling before him. He liked the turn-around, and even he had been pleasantly surprised by the rapidity with which it had occurred. "Come, dear Madame," smiled Skylord. "Let us go again and profane your fealty to your long-dead Saki..."

With no resistance, Yurikiki rose and followed Skylord out of the room.

I became aware first of the warmth, spreading slowly from somewhere inside me, filling the empty space where it had felt cold and numb. I thought maybe I had died, and now finally someone had prayed for my soul, and I was being released from this purgatory..._.I don't believe that anymore..._

_You are safe...all is well...awaken_

The warm place on my forehead, between my eyebrows, became a light pressure. I felt something open inside my head, like when my ears pop with an altitude change. I opened my eyes. Before me was Splinter's soft gray face, his dark, luminous, eyes concerned.

"Ahhh," he said softly, his voice husky. "Here, child, drink this if you can." He put a cup to my lips, and the warm steam hit my nose, I took a sip and was filled with the honey-sweet warmth of the tea. I knew where I was. Gone was the metallic, antiseptic smell of the hospital, and in it's place, the warm, smoky, scent of incense. I was on the couch, in the lair. Splinter offered me the cup again, and I gulped it thirstily; my throat felt like sand paper.

"Chotto matte, kudasai...go slow..." he smiled. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Ok, I think," I rasped. I tried to sit up a bit on the cushions, and my head suddenly felt stabbed with pain. I sank back dizzily. "Owww..."

"May I check your injury?" asked Splinter. I pulled my hair back from my temple, and felt his soft padded finger tips near my temple. "Does this hurt?" he asked. I nodded. "Hmmm...it would seem the swelling has gone down some..."

"Splinter, how did I get back here? I can't remember what happened...it all feels like a dream...".

"My sons took you from your hospital room late last night."

"Last night?" I struggled to sit up again. "So today is-?"

"Saturday. We were very concerned when you could not be revived. Apparently someone medicated you rather heavily." Splinter glanced over in the direction of the large chair. "Leonardo sat up with you all night."

I lifted my head higher. Leonardo sat on the edge of the chair, elbows resting on his knees, a forgotten book in his hands. A small smile was slowly lighting his unmasked face. I started to smile back at him, and then saw the huge gash in his shoulder, held together with about thirty neat little stitches. "Omigod-what happened to you?"

Leonardo shook his head, dismissing it. "We weren't the only ones at the hospital."

"Who-Leo-who did that to you?" It looked horrible.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, ignoring my question.

"I think so." I sat up and set my feet on the floor. "Maybe a little dizzy," I added as the room spun. "Whoa..." I put my head down to keep from fainting. Leonardo moved over to the coffee table and sat on the edge. I felt Splinter's hand on my head and felt better. When I looked up, both were watching me. "I'm ok, really," I said, my eyes falling on Leo's shoulder again. "Leo, what happened to you? Who was at the hospital?"

I had not seen Leonardo, at any time during the past week I had spent in the company of the turtles, look anything but cool and controlled. Now the faintest shadow of discomfort crossed his face. "Foot," he answered. "It had to be Foot."

"They were after you guys?" I asked.

Leonardo glanced at Splinter for a moment with a silent question. The rat nodded. "She should know this," he said.

"Lia, the Foot were looking for you. They were probably the ones who attacked you in the first place, and no doubt they drugged you. It seemed they intended to remove you themselves. They were inside the hospital and outside your window."

"Why?" I was confused. "I don't even know those guys, what do they want with me?"

"It would seem that Donatello's theory has been borne out," said Splinter. "Some sort of alliance has formed between the Foot, and the Brotherhood. At the very least, the Foot appear to be in the employ of your husband-"

"My ex-" I started to correct Splinter.

He smiled indulgently. "Your _ex_-husband. There can be no other reason for their interest in you that I can think of. Here, have you finished the tea?" He took the cup from me. "I will prepare some more." He rose. "It would appear to be helping you. I am most relieved. I will be a moment."

"Thank you, Splinter," I said, then sat feeling a little dumbfounded. Something was trying to come into my awareness, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It was all so confusing.

"Why did you leave the lair the other night?" asked Leonardo, breaking through my thoughts.

"Why did I what-? Oh, oh. That. Yeah..." I stammered. "Adeline had called. She was scared...and- -Alex had gotten to her somehow-Please, don't be mad, but I had to help her and I thought that if you guys could meet me and her at the subway station, you'd know what to do-and- oh dear Goddess...!"

It suddenly hit me. If I hadn't taken off again, no one would have had to come and rescue me from the hospital, and Leonardo would not be sitting here with thirty stitches in his shoulder. "Oh-Leo, I am so sorry-I just thought you guys would know-I was afraid for her, but I never meant for-oh, no-Leo this is all my fault-none of this would have happened-" I felt awful. I felt worse than I had since Rose disappeared. "Is anyone else hurt? Oh, Leo, I never meant for anyone to get hurt!"

"Everyone is fine. _I'm_ fine. You really don't understand who we are, do you?" Leonardo gestured to his shoulder. "This is nothing. This is just another scar, from just another battle. This is what I do. This is what I _am." _

I shook my head. "I don't want you to get hurt on my behalf. That's not right."

"That's not within your control. We gave you our word and a promise to carry out a task for you. How we do that is our business."

"What if I release you from that promise?"

"That's not within your control, either. My word is my word." Leonardo looked down, then looked sidelong at me, a faint smile unexpectedly lighting up his eyes. "You were going to help Adeline?" he asked. "You left the lair to try to protect her from him?"

"I was trying to-I know it was half-assed. I didn't know what else to do." I dropped my face into my hands, my head was hurting again. Everything I did made things worse. Now Adeline was in some dreadful danger. It was obvious what kind of danger my actions had put the turtles in, and worst of all, somewhere out there, my own dear, sweet baby was in terrible danger. What was I doing wrong that everyone I touched suffered somehow-what was it?

I felt a movement on the couch as Leonardo sat next to me. I opened my eyes and looked up, catching sight of his arm again. Amid the deeply defined muscle and sinew there were scars, pale spider web lines in the deep green of his skin, and the new, jagged rip, crisscrossed with delicate black threads. "Leo, I am so sor-"

"No," he said firmly. "There is nothing to be sorry for. As long as any of us live, and the Foot exist in some form, they are bound by honor to seek us out and destroy us."

"Why?"

Leonardo leaned back on the couch, his arms extending along the back, winced just a little, and glanced at his shoulder. "I'm not sure I can explain this so you will understand..."

"Splinter told me the story," I said. "How the four of you were given the task of avenging the death of Splinter's Master. And that you did. He said you killed the Foot's leader...Oro-Oroku-"

"Saki," said Leonardo. "Yes." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Only, he didn't stay dead..."

"What?"

"Oroku Saki came back from Death. He is not an ordinary man, and the Foot have knowledge of ancient ways lost to present day science. He wasn't the same man, yet he was..." Leonardo's eyes were far away.

"What happened?" I asked, watching his face next to me. He took a deep breath.

"I did something incredibly stupid..." He appeared to be gazing past the walls of the lair, watching something only he could see. A small muscle in Leonardo's jaw began working, tightening rhythmically.

"What did you do?" I asked. A look was coming into his face I had not seen before.

"I went out alone one Christmas night..." he stopped and looked momentarily upward, and then turned to me. "I'm going to tell you something I don't talk about. I'm going to tell you because I know I pressured you to talk about something that you said you couldn't, but had the courage to, and because...because I want to tell you." He swallowed.

I wanted to take his hand. I had an impulse to hold him. I had to force my hands to sit quietly in my lap.

Leonardo took another deep breath. "I went out alone on Christmas two years ago, and had the arrogance to think I could take on the entire Foot clan all by myself. It started out as just an exercise run, but I picked up a few Foot, and did ok, so I kept after them, forgetting everything I had been taught, everything I caution my brothers about. I was being led. I was led right into a trap." Leo paused. "Saki was there...at the bottom of the pit, in the snow and slush...back from Death where I thought I had sent him. He- they - very nearly beat the life out of me. They broke or ripped every part of my body they could, and then threw me back to my brothers knowing that if I lived, living with defeat...and humiliation, would be far more painful than death. In death, there would have been dignity. And when they came after my brothers, and Splinter, and April...and burned her house to the ground, I was useless. We fled New York in abject defeat. I know they hoped I would be crippled, alive, but unable to fight. My body healed, but ...it's like something died. Something died that night."

I felt a weight, like something aching inside me for him, for whatever it was he was feeling.

_When your heart breaks open, it is only to make room for someone..._

"And one year later, when I faced Saki one last time," Leo went on, his eyes still far away. "And Honor was at last restored to our clan, and to my Master, and to my Master's Master...there was no joy in that victory. Satisfaction, but no joy."

I wanted joy for him. I found myself fervently asking for joy for Leonardo. He was staring somewhere beyond the television set, beyond the walls. I waited and watched him straighten, and close his eyes, shaking it off. He turned toward me, and he was different than a moment before. The door was closed again. "So," he said. "The answer to your question, the answer to 'why?', is 'for Honor'. There can be no other answer." His face had hardened, his eyes bright, brilliant as diamonds, and as cold. No pain, no joy, only the Warrior remained.

I pressed my fingers to my mouth, not sure what to say. "Leo, that's an awful thing to keep inside ..." I knew he wasn't going take this any further than he had. "But thank you...for telling me, for trusting me with that." I swallowed. He sat still as stone. In pulling away from it, he had pulled away from me, too. "That's why you sleep on the couch, isn't it?" I asked.

"I can hear the door," he acknowledged, with a faint ironic smile.

I knew that feeling. I knew about listening for the door.

There was something else, though, something I needed to know from him. "Leo, can you tell me one more thing?"

He looked at me and nodded.

"It's just, knowing what you know, seeing all this going on, like a repeating cycle. I mean," I started enumerating the events on my fingers. "Oroku Saki lost Honor when his brother was killed, and then he was avenged when he killed Hamato Yoshi. But then Splinter lost Honor, and had to regain it with the death of Oroku Saki. But now the Foot must seek to regain their lost Honor, and when they do, then _you_ will have to restore Honor again and... and Leo, where does it end? Where does it end for _you_?"

"In the end," he said very carefully. "I will die, with Honor."

I sucked in a breath as the beaded curtain behind us rattled and Splinter entered with a tray. I turned my head away quickly from Leonardo, but I'm sure he saw my look of dismay. I felt sick. Of course, the end result of life is always death, but it's not supposed to be the goal! And an early death at that, and for what? For _Honor?_

Splinter moved silently around the couch and set the tray on the coffee table. He lifted the pot and poured a steaming cup. I watched him, and then stole a glance back at Leonardo. His gaze was still fixed on me.

"I didn't expect you to understand," he said.


	19. Chapter 19

With a great deal of tea in me, I found I had to make many trips to the bathroom, which gave me ample opportunity to practice walking without falling down. Whether from the drugs, or the concussion, I was having dizzy spells fairly frequently. I showered and got out of the hospital gown, grateful that no one had thought to try and put clothes on me while I was unconscious.

I remembered what poor Adeline said about my book being missing, and went on a frantic search for my copy of the manuscript. I found it in Donatello's hands.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked. "I mean, you left it sitting out, and you are having it published..." I know he must have been responding to the look in my face. He was sitting on the floor at the low table. At the opposite end, Michaelangelo and Raphael were finishing off the last of the bread and peanut butter.

"I...I don't know," I told him. "I know it was going to be read by lots of people. That was always my intention. But that had always felt, I don't know, sort of anonymous. No, Don, of course I don't mind...it just feels sort of weird. You _know_ me." Donatello's face revealed nothing. They were all really good at that expressionless poker-face. "So, how much have you read?"

"All of it."

"Oh." I felt my face beginning to color. I am not at all good at poker-face.

"You're a very nice writer," he said, his expression still neutral. "I like how you mix the poetry in with the prose to illustrate things..." He watched me. "What I think of your writing style isn't the issue, is it?" he asked.

"No."

"You want to sit down?"

I nodded and sat on the floor at the table, looking down.

"You sort of told us what happened."

I nodded.

"But there was a lot more, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"You know, you don't have to talk about this now," said Don. "I'm not interrogating you or anything."

"What're ya gonna not talk about now?" asked Raphael, his mouth full of peanut butter. "You plannin' another sight-seeing tour, or some other critical bit of information like you've invited your mother for a visit?"

I sat back from the table and pressed my fist to my mouth. I didn't know how much of Raphael I could take, feeling as embarrassed and guilty as I did about the mess I had caused at the hospital, and now with Don having read the worst of the worst. And it was Saturday afternoon. We were nearly out of time. I was nearly out of time. And there he was looking at me again with that hard, challenging expression-

"Dammit-what do you _want_?" I cried out, bursting into tears. I covered my face and cried. It was just all too much. When I looked up and wiped my eyes, he was staring across the table at me, plainly astonished.

"Jeez, Raph, back off, wouldja?" said Mike. "Look at her!"

Raphael was caught between Don and Mike's equally disgusted glares. "It was a joke!" he almost shouted. "I didn't even know what the hell you were talking about!"

Donatello fingered the manuscript. "Once in a while, Raph, you might try paying attention."

"Oh, shuttup, Donnie!" snapped Raphael. He wiped his mouth and looked at me. "Hey, I'm sorry, ok?"

I bit my lip. Rough as it was, he actually said he was sorry. "It' ok, Raph," I said. "I think I'm just really upset...about a lot of things..."

"What's that?" he asked, pointing. "Your book?"

I nodded.

"Can I see it?"

"Ok..." I felt like I couldn't very well say 'no'.

Don passed it to him. I chewed a nail as he thumbed through it, finding sections to stop and read. It was very quiet. I was aware that Leonardo had emerged from the far passage and walked over to the table, though I hadn't seen or heard him. It was more like I felt him come into the room. I looked up at him. He was damp with perspiration and had a towel around his neck.

"I thought Splinter didn't want you to work out today." Don half-smiled at him.

Leonardo returned an almost identical smile. He shrugged. "How's your hand?"

"Ok," Don looked at his left hand, wrapped in gauze. I had been so preoccupied it hadn't even really registered that Don had been hurt as well.

"So, what's up?" Leonardo's eyes moved around the table and I had the impression he missed nothing and was perfectly aware of what was up. He paused at me. "You ok?" he asked.

"Mm hm..." I nodded, and caught Mike out of the corner of my eye, shaking his head 'no'.

"I'm gonna get some water. You want anything?" Leo asked me.

I shook my head. I watched Raphael reading. I knew, at the time I had written it, why I had. The darkest and most depraved realities lose their power in the bright light of exposure. I had wanted to get the truth out, but also I knew that in writing about it, I was helping myself to heal.

On the other hand, having someone read it while I was sitting right there was almost like opening the wounds all over again.

Leonardo came back in with a glass of water and sat next to me. He watched me watching Raphael. Raphael's eyes narrowed. "Hm?" he murmured and flipped back several pages. "What's this..?" I saw his breathing become more rapid and his scowl deepen as he read. "What the hell...ah, jeez!" Raphael stood abruptly .

"What?" asked Michaelangelo.

"Read it," said Raphael, turning away from the table, agitated, and stomping off.

Leonardo looked at me. "May I read it?"

_Oh, no, please don't._

"I won't if you don't want me to," he said.

"No. That's ok..."

_What am I saying?_

So while Raphael orbited the living room, occasionally muttering to himself as he paced, and Mike sat looking perplexed, and Donatello sat looking preoccupied, Leo read the details of my nightmare life in the Brotherhood. He finally looked up and gave me a look of disbelief.

From the living room Raphael came storming back. "You know what, Leo?" he rasped. "I'm gonna kill this guy!"

"Hey, Raph, chill-" Mike started. I know he saw my wide-eyed look. Everything felt out of control.

"No! NO! When the time comes, _I_ _kill him!"_

Leonardo's eyes had unfocused, as though he had gone somewhere else again, and hadn't even heard his raging brother. He stood up suddenly, crossed the room to where his sheathed katana hung on the wall and pulled one out and returned. He spun the sword around in his hand and plunged the tip of the blade into the bamboo mat in front of me.

I jumped and gasped.

He dropped to one knee and placed one hand on the hilt of the katana.

"I know you don't understand this," he said solemnly. "And that doesn't matter. It doesn't even matter that you might not want this. But hear me. I swear to return to you not only your lost child, but to restore to you your lost Honor."

Slowly Donatello reached forward and placed his hand on Leonardo's. Michaelangelo followed, and last, Raphael.

I sat stunned, feeling transported back to some ancient time beyond my memory or comprehension. Leonardo was right. I really had no idea who they were.


	20. Chapter 20

Everything came crashing in on me while I watched the six o'clock news that night. Between the day's intense conversations, and the anxiety of knowing that Alex's deadline was upon me, to say nothing of not having recovered from my hospital stay, I was exhausted. I started to put together a left-overs stew, and Mike stepped in and sent me back to the couch where I collapsed. I was trying not to think about what I would do tomorrow. I was trying not to think about tomorrow at all.

Donatello was merrily clicking on his keyboard, humming to himself. Raphael had gone out "for some air", as if he might find any worth breathing in the sewer, and Leonardo was cloistered away with Splinter. Mike came in from the kitchen and sitting next to me, began playing with a scratched up Gameboy they had scavenged somewhere (and Donatello had no doubt repaired) I was starting to doze off when something the TV. newscaster said broke through my awareness.

"There are no suspects yet in what police are calling a gangland bloodbath which occurred sometime late last night at St. Luke's Teaching Hospital in Manhattan's Upper West Side. The bodies of five young Asian men were found outside the hospital, apparently having fallen or been thrown from the rooftop. Two more men were discovered inside the third floor wing where a security guard had been overcome by unknown intruders. One man died of stab wounds late this afternoon, the other remains in critical condition."

I sat up slowly on one elbow, trying to understand what I was hearing. More dead?

"As a bizarre sidebar to these slayings," the newscaster went on. "The young woman being held in custody in connection with last weekend's mysterious deaths at the Hotel Broderick managed to escape from her guarded hospital room. Police are not commenting as to whether these cases are in any way connected..."

Mike had stopped beeping and Don had stopped clicking. I looked over at Michaelangelo. "What's this about?" I asked, afraid he might be able to tell me.

"Uhhhhh, well, that's about how we got you out of the hospital..." he explained hesitantly.

"No one said anything about anyone being killed-" I sat up and turned back to see Don. "How did those men die? What happened?"

"Leo and I fought the men outside, Mike and Raph had to deal with the ones on the inside."

"You had to kill _six people_ to get me out of the hospital?" I cried.

"Well, it was either that or let them kill us..." retorted Don with some defensiveness.

"Dear Goddess..." I sat back on the couch, running my hands through my hair.

"Lia," said Don. "They were Foot..."

"They were people!" I snapped back.

"Lia, " said Mike. "I know this is a major bummer, but you have to understand what-"

"What I understand is that after agreeing with me that Alexander Skylord committed an act of barbarism by killing six men, you guys can turn around and do exactly the same thing!"

"It's not the same thing-"

"A death is a death-whether you happen to like the person or not-oh, jeez, what am I saying?" I stood up and fled the living room. I ran down the darkened sleeping passage and dropped onto Leonardo's bed, burying my face in the pillow.

I found I was exhausted past crying. I just lay there, spinning in confusion. This is insane, I thought. Belladonna must have been mistaken. These guys call themselves an "Honorable Warrior Clan", but the truth was they were killers, murderers. There had no doubt been a whole lot more bloodshed in these turtles' lives than simply Leonardo's revenge upon the Foot's leader. Their cavalier attitude about the dead men from last night would certainly indicate that. They hadn't even mentioned it, as though death was commonplace. It was possible, I recognized, that they might have made it a point not to mention it to _me, _anticipating my reaction. Still, this wasn't 14th century Japan. People don't just go around killing each other on the street, vigilante style. That was what the police were for.

And therein lay another glaring dilemma. I was cut off from help from the police. Alex had taken care of that. With Adeline under Alex's influence, I was cut off from her private investigator. All of my desperate efforts back home had met with dead ends. All I _had_ were these Ninja...

And they had, in essence, offered to risk their lives for me, a total stranger, and taken me into their home with only my word to go on that I wouldn't expose them to the world. They had shed their own blood when they had to rescue me from my ill-devised plan. They had offered me their friendship, and done much more than merely put up with me when I fell apart emotionally. And I had certainly fallen apart emotionally on them several times. And Leo-

I heard the bed next to me move, and lifted my head. Michaelangelo sat on Don's futon, his eyes wide with caution.

"Mike, I'm so confused," I said "I'm sorry about what I said. I don't know what I 'm saying, or what I'm doing. I feel like all these deaths, all this blood is on my hands...".

"Hey, it's not," said Mike, looking relieved that I didn't start yelling again. "Part of the problem is that when you came to us for help, you got tangled up in our business that really has nothing to do with you. That's not your fault. And look, as far as Skyking's dudes go, he did that, not you. You even said it wasn't the first time he's killed anyone."

"No, it's not the first time. I just feel responsible, like none of this would've happened if I had just-"

"Just what? Given up?" Michaelangelo's eyes were innocently wide, but he knew perfectly well where he wanted to lead me. Like his humor, Mike's 'playing dumb' was anything but dumb.

"And as far as the Foot go, that is totally not about you," he went on. "That's our fight. It goes back whole generations. And the thing is, they aren't, like, nice people to begin with. There's this whole huge crime ring tied up with the Foot, like racketeering, and black market and stuff. They hurt people, and kill innocent citizens who get in their way. I mean, I'm not trying to justify killing anyone. Believe it or not, for us, killing is always the last resort."

"I know, " I said. "I've seen you guys fight that way, just to get away, like in the alley...".

"Threat reduction, that's what Leo calls it," Michaelangelo grinned. "General George Leonardo Patton."

I looked down for a moment, thinking. "Do you think the Foot are targeting Leo?" I asked. "I mean, can they even tell you guys apart?"

"I think they'd kill us all in a heart beat. Heh, if they could. But they've got every reason to single out Leo for the worst. They've already done that once."

"I know. He told me about that Christmas."

"Leo told you about that?" Mike looked startled.

I nodded. "He said he didn't like to talk about it."

"It's not that he doesn't like to. He has_ never _talked about it."

"Never?"

"We tried to talk to him, after, when he had recovered enough, but he wouldn't tell us what really happened. He went so far into his shell, no joke, we didn't know if we'd ever get him back again."

I felt that aching in my chest again, like a pressure. "I think I can understand that, Mike. Not wanting to talk about it."

Michaelangelo blinked. "Yeah," he said. "I bet you can." He looked down for a moment and I had the impression I had seen about how far Mike was willing to go with grim discussions. He looked quickly back over his shoulder at the doorway, and then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I have a secret I'm not supposed to tell you," he whispered. He ran a pink tongue over his mouth.

My heart jumped. "What?"

"Well, actually, most of us wanted to tell you, but Raph went ballistic, so we agreed to cool it."

"Raphael..." I said.

"Well, he was afraid of how you'd react. Don't tell 'em I told you this, ok?"

"What? What?"

"We found the place. Not just the dojo, but this huge old abandoned church. Well, it looks abandoned, all gothic and spooky. Perfect for a horror movie. Anyway, we think this is where the real action is. We had it staked out the night before last, and, uh...we think we saw Rose."

"What?!" I sat up. "You saw her? Are you sure?! Where-?" I grabbed Mike's hands.

"It was just a peek, for a moment, and then we lost the car. But tonight we're going back. Don't tell 'em, ok? We're almost here. We just need this one more night."

"We only _have_ this one more night!" I moaned.

Mike squeezed my hands and impulsively gave them a quick kiss. "We got it covered. Keep the faith. You gotta do that. We'll do the rest."

I found Don and apologized. He told me my feelings about taking a human life were very understandable. His easy-going attitude was more from a peculiar detachment, I realized. Donatello seemed to float round in his own little bubble of thought a lot of the time, but his smile seemed genuine. "You sure apologize a lot," he told me.

I shrugged. "I guess I say a lot of stupid stuff."

"No, you don't. A little emotional perhaps, but not at all stupid."

They left early that night, just after sunset. I hugged them as they went out this time, too. Donatello returned my hug lightly, reserved, and looking a little self-conscious. Michaelangelo squeezed me tight up against his hard plastron and grinned like a loon. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his brothers didn't see, and put a finger over his mouth. He looked far more playful than worried but I nodded to reassure him I wouldn't let on I knew where they were going.

Hugging Raphael felt awkward, as though he wasn't sure how to respond at first. He pulled back and looked up from under his mask with narrowed eyes, as though trying to discern my motive.

"It's just a thank you, and uh, Godspeed..." I explained.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he said, and then grinned, as though we shared a joke. I wanted then to ask him what _that_ meant. Dealing with Raphael was just so complicated.

Leonardo took in sharp breath when I put my arms around him. He hugged me back, and I felt my own breath catch. We let go, and he looked at me, his eyes made brighter by the dark mask. I felt my face coloring under his gaze.

"Thank you, Leo..." I managed to say. He nodded, the faintest, pleased, smile curving his mouth. Then he blinked, looked away for an instant, and was suddenly formal again, ducking his head in a small symbolic bow. He looked quickly at his brothers, assembled at the door, and turned away.

I sat on the couch with Splinter most of the evening. For someone so studied and wise he certainly seemed to have a peculiar passion for bad sit-coms. He had made us each a cup of tea, and they sat steaming on the coffee table. His smelled of jasmine, and mine of ginseng, so I assumed he was still nursing me back to health. I was no less tired, but I knew I couldn't sleep. Emotionally, I was practically numb.

"How are you feeling?" Splinter asked me during a commercial.

"Fried," I said, and catching his quizzical expression, amended it to "Exhausted."

"It has been an emotionally trying day for you, has it not?"

I looked over at him at the other end of the couch; whiskered, sharp-eyed, wrapped in the blue robe. "Leonardo told you what we talked about today, didn't he?" I asked.

Splinter nodded. "It pleases me that you were both able to discuss these things. It is a cleansing for the soul."

I watched the steam rise from the teacups. "Yeah. I guess we shared horror stories today."

"Leonardo has never spoken of it before today."

"Not even to you?" I asked.

"No."

I sat back on the couch cushions and took a deep breath. I would have thought that Leonardo told Splinter everything. "You know, Splinter, when you live with people this closely, for even a short time, like this past week I've been here, it's like you can become so close, so quickly. I feel close to all of your sons. Even Raphael..." I smiled. "He'd probably be horrified by that."

"You might be surprised to learn what Raphael feels," said Splinter.

"Oh, I know he means well. And I know a big part of it is how I react to him. I know I take what he says too personally. Mike told me that."

"Michaelangelo's wisdom often goes unacknowledged," Splinter reached for his teacup.

"We were talking about how I don't really understand who they are, your sons, but part of me feels now, like I've known them for a very long time."

"That is a paradox," said Splinter.

"Yeah.."

"Perhaps you have known them before..."

"You mean like in a previous life?" I asked.

Splinter nodded.

I was tired, but comfortable. Talking to Splinter was very much like talking to Belladonna, just allowing my stream of consciousness to take me to the truth. "I feel very connected to Leonardo," I said, and then heard myself. I looked quickly over at Splinter to see his reaction. He was watching me closely with his liquid brown eyes. I felt myself blushing again.

"He has allowed you to touch his deepest wound," said Splinter softly. "I know he feels connected to you, as well."

I felt happy and like crying at the same time, the ache in my heart was both painful and sweet. I couldn't think of anything to say.

I turned back to the TV. screen for a moment, not actually following what was going on, but seeing instead four turtles moving through the night.

"Splinter," I asked after a while. "Is this what they always do? I mean, have other people come to them for help?"

"They have helped many people, but usually without the awareness of those being helped. They have been taught to live under the cover of darkness, and to remain invisible. There have been a few, but most often, those who have benefited have had no knowledge of their presence. Their only real human contacts have been April and Casey."

"I've heard of April, "I said. "Who is Casey?"

"Casey is a young man whom Raphael befriended. They share some common interests..." Splinter looked a little amused, as though he had told himself a private joke. "It was on his family's farm that we lived this past year."

"I guess it's none of my business," I said. "But why did you leave a farm to come back here?"

Splinter looked thoughtful. "I suppose it was an experiment of sorts," he said, almost more to himself. "After the death of the Shredder, Oroku Saki, a sort of directionless took hold of us all. There seemed to be a sort of depression in the house. And it seemed April and Casey, perhaps they needed some time to decide the direction of their friendship, without my sons as the only reason for their association."

Splinter paused and stroked his chin whiskers. "And my sons also needed perhaps to redefine their own identities...for themselves. Whether right or wrong, for all their lives, I have told them who they are. I have told them what their purpose and task was, and they accepted that, knowing nothing else. They are seventeen now, and thinking more and more for themselves. They need the opportunity to begin to make decisions for themselves."

"I think you are a wise father," I said to Splinter. "I know parents seem to sometimes try to hold on tighter when their kids get a little independent."

Splinter tilted his face toward me. "Thank you, Lia," he said. "We are all of us always learning."


	21. Chapter 21

The young boy sat very still in the darkness. He was cloaked in black, the hood drawn low over his face so his vision of the great hall was obscured, though in the inky blackness, little could have been seen anyway. The boy felt dizzy, and a little nauseous, but a pleasant dream-like quality came with that, so he almost felt he was floating outside his body somewhere. Acrid smoke and sweet incense mingled in his nostrils. In his hands he clutched an empty pewter vessel, and a cellular phone.

A light was struck, the first candle lit, and the boy could make out his Master's form, within the salt circle with him. The Master faced East, invoking Yetzirah, and traced a bright blue pentagram in flame, at shoulder height. He heard him speak low, almost more a sensation in the boy's chest than words he could hear with his ears. A chilling wind moved across the circle, stirring the boy's hood. The Master repeated the action for each of the four directions, South, invoking Atziluth, and West, calling upon the waters of Brian, and last North, and Assail, the Manifest, the Material. Four blue flames hung in the air at the cardinal points.

The Master moved to the altar in the center of the circle, his great black robe flowing to the ground. As he worked he continued to speak low, a ceaseless rhythmic recital.

_Gloria Patri et Matri et Filio et Filiae et Spiritui Sancto externo et Siritui Sancto interno..._

The Master took a long straight sword from the altar where lay several implements, and with a small dagger, began scraping a dark material from the blade into a large crucible. He took a chalice of wine, and never slowing his chanted litany, poured the wine over the dark flakes in the crucible. He swirled it between his hands, and held it over the candle flame on the altar.

The Master crumbled a bit of black stuff into the mixture and a dark cloud, accompanied by a terrible stench, arose. It hit the young boy's senses and he nearly gagged. He did not move, though: he knew far better. He sat crouched at the edge of the circle, very still, awaiting his part of the ritual spell.

The crucible was raised aloft over the Master's head._ "Voce vocae ni nuit!" _he cried out, and lowering the dish, spat into it. Then he turned, and advanced to the boy who watched him as though it were a movie, detached. The Master emptied the contents of the crucible into the cup held by the boy. He seized the him by the neck, throwing his cowl back. Violently, the Master shoved his head back, and gripping his jaw, forced the boy's mouth open, and poured the vile stuff down the child's throat.

As the boy shuddered and swayed, Alexander Skylord took the phone from his hands, and dialed.

* * *

I heard the phone ring through a dream. Something about Rose, and Michaelangelo was there, in the warm sunshine...but the phone was ringing somewhere.

I rolled clumsily off the couch, untangling my legs from the blanket Splinter must have thrown over me, and made my way to the pay phone by the light of the VCR

"Hello?" I answered, sleep-groggy and disoriented.

"Hello Lia." It was a man.

"Who is this?"

"Come now, Lia. You don't recognize my voice?"

Now I did. "Alex?" A jolt of adrenaline hit me. "How did you get this number?"

"A mutual friend." His voice was like distant drum beats, I could feel it inside my head like shadows in my mind.

"You surprise me, Lia," he said. "I would not have thought you would be so willing to put so many others at risk in order to keep yourself safe."

Part of me knew what he was doing, and knew that he knew where to stick the knife. Part of me just felt it go in. I felt cloudy, unreal...like someone drowning. I grabbed at the part of my mind that recognized the familiar manipulation, the emotional virus. "Maybe I'm not as nice as you thought," I said.

"Perhaps. But I doubt it. I know you too well, Lia. It's far more likely you have placed too much faith in your companions. Oh, I suppose it's possible you are gambling that I would not harm my own daughter. That's a logical, though naive assumption. Rather dicey to risk her life on that, don't you think?"

"I don't know, Alex. Is it?" My heart was pounding, but I felt maybe it was a good sign that he had called. Maybe something had happened. Maybe they had found her, and Rose was on her way home now, and this was Alex's last ditch effort to terrify me into surrender.

"Well, let us say, for the sake of argument that you are right. Let us say you have called my bluff. Or at least, let us say you have convinced me that you do not believe I could cut out the heart of my own child, even if in reality, Lia, I most certainly could. You should know me that well. But, no matter. Now what do I have for an eleventh hour bargaining chip, eh?"

My heart thudding sounded like the blood in my ears, pounding. I felt light-headed._ Stay clear, keep him out-he's trying to get in-_

"Suppose your heroes got a little careless, a little anxious at the deadline. Suppose they thought they saw a small blond girl child and not understanding the power of illusion, became foolhardy, and walked into a trap?"

A shiver ran down my spine and I felt shaky. "What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to sound steady.

"Bring it over here," I heard Alex's voice off the phone, talking to someone. "Speak to her!" he rumbled. "Say her name, now! Speak!"

I heard a scream of pain, and a voice crying "Nooooo!" And then "Lia...please..." It was Donatello's voice.

"No..." I whispered. Another heart-rending scream followed, and a gurgling gasp.

"Take it back to the others..." Alex said off the phone. And then to me, "This is the deal, Lia. Their lives for yours. Simple, straight forward. Trust that I can kill these ugly creatures with no remorse whatsoever. Trust that I will."

"Alex..." I choked on my own voice. "Don't do this, Alex, please..."

"Come to me now, Lia. Place your life in my hands, and I'll release them. Ignore this threat and they will die, painfully. And I will be forced to proceed with my original plan for a Blood Letting Ritual, for Lia, as you must know by now, I will win. And you will, in the end, return to my side, whether others must die in the process or not...Four Seventeen West Marsden, in Brooklyn. Before midnight. Check and mate, Lia. Do not forget who I am."

I heard the line go dead. My head spun. I dropped the telephone and then sank down to the floor in the pay phone. This can't be happening...

This was it, then. Alex had won. It's over. I tried to think. Nothing would come. It wasn't like I had any choice. I stood up and in a daze, made my way to the couch. I picked up my back pack and numbly went through it. I took out enough money for cab fare, and left the rest of my cash in Splinter's little money basket. At the bottom was small packet of herbs tied up on a silk string that Belladonna had given to me. On an impulse I slipped it around my neck. I put on the same pair of pants I had slipped off earlier. What did it matter what I wore to my own death?

Even if Alex didn't kill me outright, this would be my death. Maybe though, I thought, I could at least get Rose out later, send her away...I had escaped once...maybe I could...I stopped. Who was I fooling? He'd only find her again...like he found me. All I could do was try to get there before he hurt the turtles...I shuddered and buried the thought, the screams I heard over the phone echoing in my head.

Nothing mattered anymore. Alex had won. And he always would.

"I'm bored, Leo."

"Why are you telling me, Mike? Tell Don."

"Hey, Don. I'm bored."

"Tell Raph."

"Hey Raph, I'm-"

"Mike, I am going to hit you..."

Michaelangelo fell silent, grinning to himself and idly spinning one set of 'chucks. He had just oiled the chain and fittings, so the only sound they made was a soft whistling in the night air. He was feeling bored and restless but it was really alright. Where the four crouched high above the street, amid the strangely carved walls of the old church, the air was warm and exceptionally still. Each had found fairly comfortable places to hide, and they knew soon they would be able to take action.

"You sure they're bringing the kid here?" Raphael asked Don.

"That's what she said. I'm sure I heard her right; the old woman didn't seem too concerned about keeping her voice down."

"Wish they'd hurry it up," grumbled Raphael.

"It's a nice night," said Leonardo, gazing out over the quiet neighborhood. "And the company is pleasant enough..." he grinned, gesturing to the carved gargoyle he was sitting on.

"You're sure in a light-hearted mood, Leo," said Mike, twisting around to see him. "You know something we don't?"

"Most likely..." Leonardo answered.

"You should know better than to ask him questions like that, Mike," muttered Raphael.

"Well, ok, then, how about you, Raph?"

"What _about_ me?"

"Ah. Hm. Well, let's see," Mike spun his chucks and gazed skyward. "I don't know, but it sure seems you've had something up your tail all week..."

Raphael snorted and readjusted his position turning away from Mike.

"Bingo," said Mike.

"Bingo_ what?_ _What _bingo?" snapped Raphael.

"What's buggin' you?"

"You!"

"Come on, Raph. You've had our poor houseguest walkin' around on eggshells thinkin' it's her..."

Raphael let a breath out. "Damn."

"Well, she doesn't understand-"

"Shit...yeah..."

"Yeah, _what?_"

"Ehhrr..." Raphael half turned back to Mike. "Yeah, yeah. An' I made her cry again today. I don't know how I keep doin' that...I don't mean to."

Mike gazed off at the rows of brownstone rooftops below them. "She thought you hated her."

"I know, Mike. You don't have to remind me."

"Well, I straightened it out. You can thank me. I told her she takes what you say too personal."

"Yeah. Right. Thanks." Raphael looked down. "I'd like to take her a whole lot more personal."

Mike looked over at him quickly. "Lookin' good so far..."

"Shuttup."

"I'm tryin' to help you here," Mike grinned.

"You an' all your vast experience..."

"Hey, I have got an awesome fantasy life!"

"You've got an awesome magazine collection is what you've got..." Raphael smirked.

"Yeah, an' half of 'em are under your bed. I know. I had to go looking."

"Well, you can have the damn magazines. I like the real thing."

"Now _there's_ a fantasy..." Mike said, more wistful than teasing now.

"You think so? Don't be so sure, Mikey. I might just know what I'm talkin' about."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Nothin' Mike. Go back to fantasy land..."

Above them, Leonardo quietly listened. Three or four different emotions raced through him, none of which he could really identify, except he could feel his stomach grinding, and whatever momentary lightness he had just felt, was gone. The knot in his stomach, the dark sense of foreboding, of knowing he needed to do something, take some sort of action to head off some impending disaster, and having no idea what it was he was supposed to do about whatever it was- these were becoming increasingly familiar companions.

_I hate this. Never knowing what Raph's gonna do, and feeling out of control of things. And now, it's more than that. Anger. It's like anger. Like he had better not try anything stupid...And it isn't just about Raphael, hard as it is to listen to him talk like that. It's that feeling something really bad is going to happen-and I can't seem to stay focused, or pay attention to anything for three minutes without my mind wandering where I don't want it to and there she is-_

Donatello whistled sharply. "Hey, heads up!" he hissed. The four melted deeper into the crevices of the carvings and strange statuary lining the church's peaked rooftop.

Below on the dark street, a gray Ford sedan had pulled up to the church's main doorway. A lone woman, older with gray hair, came out of the church and went to the car's driver. They spoke for a moment, and though the turtles strained their keen hearing, they couldn't make out what was said. The old woman went back inside, and re-emerged a moment later with a small child in her arms. Like a flock of birds taking flight in one movement, the four turtles began a swift and silent descent from the roof, slipping around the ornate angels and demons, and over the arched stained glass window frames.

Before the child could be buckled into the back seat, the four were on the ground. As the car pulled out, they took off at a dead run through the alleyway behind the church. They converged on the car at a stop sign at a well-lit but deserted intersection.

"I'll hold the driver-" said Donatello, springing forward. He jerked open the driver's side door as Michaelangelo and Leonardo took each of the rear doors. A middle aged man's dark face greeted Donatello with a look of terror, but the back seat was empty.

"What the-?"

"Hey!" yelled Raphael. "Look! Over there!" Raphael pointed to a weather-beaten yellow station wagon with Connecticut plates going past them the other way. The street lights clearly showed an elderly woman driving and a small blond girl in the back of the car, looking at them as it went by.

"Uh, sorry-" Don said to the sedan's driver.

"How'd they do that?" asked Mike as they took off again.

"Up!" directed Leonardo pointing to a fire escape ladder on the side of the nearest brownstone. They made the rooftops in less than a minute, losing sight of the station wagon. They leaped to the next set of buildings, feet landing silently and invisible in the moonless night, and spotted the headlights. They watched it turn right at the next intersection, and followed it to the next block, leaping like wingless gargoyles. The car turned right again, passing a shiny '54 Chevy, and then right again.

"They're circling," said Don.

''Something's wrong.." Leonardo stood at the edge, hands on the high rim of brickwork skirting the rooftop.

"Check the Chevy!" Mike whispered loudly. "Look!"

The green and white Chevy had pulled into the intersection, under the street lights. An old woman was getting out. She pushed the seat forward and leaned into the back, emerging with a small blond child in her arms, and hurrying to a bus stop across the street.

"This is weird..." said Don.

A nearly empty city bus pulled up to the stop, and the woman got on. "Do we follow that?" asked Mike.

Raphael was breathing hard with mounting anger and agitation. "What the hell's going on? I mean, what the hell is this?"

A red Toyota pulled up to one of the houses across from the building where the turtles stood. An old woman, the very same old woman, came down the stairs with the very same small blond child in her arms, got into the back seat of the Toyota, and drove away.

"It's not real," said Leonardo. "It can't be real..."

"What is it then? Looks pretty frickin' real to me!"

"It looks real because we want it to..." Leonardo passed a hand over his eyes. "It's an illusion. Skylord knows what we want, so he let us fuel our own illusion. Lia told me, he gets in, and finds a weak place, some place where you're hungry..."

"Gets in?" Raphael repeated loudly. "Whaddaya mean he 'gets in'?"

"Come here," Leonardo led them to the shelter beneath a water tower. "I think we have to be very careful. I'm beginning to think we really don't know what we're up against here. We all saw that, we all believed it, and only our ability to reason could have told us it didn't make sense."

"Two things, Leo," said Don, crouching on his haunches. "One, we've been drawn off, which means he knows we're here. Second, if this was an illusion intended to send us on a wild goose chase, it was probably also designed to send us a message."

"What message?" demanded Raphael.

"That we cannot necessarily trust our perceptions."

"Great," gnarled Raphael. "What else do we have?"

"It's part of the brainwashing stuff Lia wrote about," Don explained. "She said he instills self-doubt, a crack in one's confidence, and keeps chipping away at it."

"I think maybe we should have all read the whole manuscript," said Michaelangelo.

"Or at least given her a chance to explain what she wanted to that first night."

"What? This is my fault now?" snapped Raphael.

"Whoa, stop," said Leonardo. "We need now, more than ever, to stay focused and clear."

Donatello glanced over at Mike, who, crouched in the huddle, was staring wide-eyed off into space. "Hey, Mike, you ok?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah, I'm ok. I'm just a little creeped out. I don't like this Twilight Zone stuff when it's not on television."

"Let's head back," said Leonardo, standing . "And we need to stay focused."

"Hey, Leo, wait." Raphael stood also. "If Skydude 'got in' to our heads as you say because we were so focused on finding a little blond girl, doesn't it seem sorta counter-productive to keep doin' that?"

Leonardo stopped and stared at his brother wordlessly.

Donatello looked thoughtful. "You know, Raph, that's a good point. Assuming he does know what we're thinking somehow, maybe it's a good idea to throw a little chaos into the mix. Jam the signal, you know?"

"What would you suggest, Don?" asked Leo.

"Well, I could recite the Pythagorean theorem..."

"I can sing some tunes," said Mike.

"Ah..." nodded Leonardo. "Television commercial jingles...that shouldn't reveal anything important..."

"I'm just gonna think about disemboweling this jerk..." said Raphael.

Leonardo gazed out over the rooftops in the moonless dark of the night. Somewhere a door slammed and a baby cried. Another car hissed down the quiet street below them. "I'm going to say this here, and not think about it again until we get back to the church. Try to do the same, ok? We need to get into that building now. If he's fooled us once with this illusion, and the conversation Don overheard was a plant, it's likely he wanted us outside the building, waiting. We need to get inside there now and see what's really going on."

"With you, Leo," said Don.

"Let's go-" said Mike.

Leonardo and Raphael locked eyes for a moment. "Let's get 'em, Leo," said Raphael, the fire coming up in his eyes. "Let's do it!"


	22. Chapter 22

The cabby called the place the old Angel's Cathedral. I gazed up at the ancient-looking church. By it's architectural style it looked like it could have been built in1300 or so, and that various other epochs had continued to add onto it over the centuries. Carved gargoyles and nightmarish Heirmonyous Bosch creatures battled Heaven's angels from the peaked ramparts. It looked like an illustrated version of the Book of Revelations.

"You meetin' someone here, sweetheart?" asked the cabby as I stared up at the walls.

"Um...yeah. In there I guess."

"No one's in there, kiddo, except maybe some homeless folks. Place has been abandoned for thirty years. Some problems with the Church not knowing what to do with it. You sure you don't want me to take you somewhere else?"

Part of my mind screamed _"Yes!",_ but I shook my head. "No, thank you..."

The cabby shrugged and waited while I walked up the wide stone stairs to the huge carved doors. Angels guarded either side of these doors, which were themselves complicated works of art, showing Adam and Eve in the Garden, and then banished from the Garden, with the fiery angel barring their return to paradise. The Tree of Knowledge was beautifully ornate and ominous at once with the sinuous Serpent coiled around it's limbs.

_Once you have tasted of the Forbidden fruit, you cannot return to innocence..._

_There is no way home..._

I shuddered and pulled open the heavy door, stepping into the building. Tables in the foyer held hundreds of white candles, nearly all of them lit. I crossed the foyer, and opened one of two sets of double doors, revealing the huge interior. More white candles on small altars beneath statues of various saints illuminated the pews, and the great Altar at the front. Flickering light reflected off the twenty foot high stained glass windows.

I walked slowly down the center aisle, the benches seemed recently polished, though those in the front, past the midway cross, had been removed, leaving a wide open space before the Altar. I could make out through the gloom the various saints carved into the walls; crossing the stream, flung to the ground in mid-epiphany. No Virgin Mary, though,. And no Christ on the cross at the front.

Odd, I thought. I had been thinking of lighting a candle and praying to Mary, though in my mind, Mary the Mother of Christ, and the Great Mother of the ancient religion which pre-dated Christianity by 30000 years, had merged. I had to shake myself out of that reverie. None of it was relevant anymore. All that would matter, soon, would be what I was told to believe, and told to do...

I turned and walked back to the foyer. I wondered why no one had heard me yet, I had certainly made no effort to be quiet, and the creak and thump of the doors when I came in should certainly told someone I was here. To my left, another door, labeled with a brass plate reading "Stairs" got my attention, I pushed it open, and found myself at the head of a long, winding stairwell.

"Oh, so here is Death," I thought, and began my descent.

Three flights of stairs, and the door at each landing was locked. Candles stuck into holders mounted on the walls lit the wooden stairs and sleek handrail. Even here, the building gave no sense of being abandoned. Someone was around, and had been for some time. Other than that somewhat detached observation, I had no thought. I was numb past fear, sorrow, or regret. A return to being a mindless automaton was only appropriate, anyway. The ability to not feel anything was something I would have to do, to survive, assuming I would be allowed to live at all.

On the fourth landing down the wide wooden door yielded. It opened to a large shadowy room. Wooden pillars held more candles, the floor was a delicate parquet. The far end was more brightly illuminated. A few people sat in a half circle around someone seated in a large recliner. He was dressed all in black. A small table sat before him, with a bottle of liquor, a small cake, and a pale pink, long-stemmed rose.

I fought to steady my breath, and forced my now shaking legs to carry me across the expanse of the room. I walked through the gathering of men, feeling all eyes upon me. I stopped five feet before him, and dropped to my knees, lowering my eyes.

"I'm here, Alex," I said.

"Hello, Lia."

I didn't move. I could hear the other men in the room seated around Alex murmuring, moving a little in their chairs.

"Come here," said Alex, very low.

I stood and walked to him. He sat erect in the great chair, a king before his court. Broad shouldered, even seated, he seemed to tower over everyone else. He wore black trousers, and a collarless black shirt that gleamed like silk, and in the feeble light, made his pale hair and fair skin appear all the whiter. His eyes were darkly blue, and crackled with a discerning intelligence that had always, and now still, appeared to see right through me. I thought of Adeline's intoxicated musing about how beautiful he was. She was right.

Alex watched me, looking thoughtful, one finger stroking his moustache. He stood slowly, very close, and I felt a shudder run through me, my heart pounding. I knew he could see me trembling. He ran his hand, icy cool, and smooth, over my cheek and down my throat. I wished I could feel repelled, but all I could feel was surrender. He took my face in both hands and kissed the top of my head, then my forehead, then, so slowly it bordered on painful, my cheek. He raised my face higher, and brought his mouth over mine, gently at first, and then pressing harder. His lips were warm, I felt engulfed, and almost too weak to stand. He took my shoulders in his hands. It was not that I could not resist. I didn't want to.

Alex drew back, and still holding my shoulders, spoke to one of the other men. "Ruben, take her to my chambers. Have Sophie and Marie make her ready. They have been told what to do." To me he said, "The hour draws near, Lia. We must prepare."

I wanted to ask him for what did we need to prepare, but something else leaped into my mind of much greater importance. "Alex, wait," I said. "Please, you said you'd let them go-my friends- -where are they? You will let them go now-?"

Alex looked down at me, a small smile deepening the crease in his cheek. "I'm afraid I cannot do that," he said.

"Alex, please, you said you would-"

"But, I cannot, Lia. They are not here yet."

I stared at him dumbfounded as his smile hardened.

"They're not here..?" I repeated numbly.

"No, I don't expect them to show up until they know you are here..." Alex looked up at some distant point across the room. "Then we will all be here."

"Oh my god..." I looked around the room. Alex gestured to one of the men, presumably Ruben, and he came forward. "Wait! Wait!" I cried as he took my arm. "What about Rose? Alex, please, where is Rose? Can I see her?"

Alex stood back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yes, Lia. Our child is here. She is in safe hands. And you will see her in due time. But we have other concerns just now."

"Alex, please-!" A second man rose and took my other arm and I was pulled away, back across the room, and back up the stairs.

I was escorted by the two men up to the second floor. Ruben unlocked the door on the landing with a key from a huge ring, heavy with many keys. The marched me wordlessly down a dark passageway to a heavy oaken door, bound with iron. Another key opened this and within was an area that was undoubtedly Alex's private living quarters. Everything was done in heavy oak, from the roll-top desk to the enormous four-poster bed that dominated the room.

As one man held me, as if I would try to make a break for it at this point, the other picked up the phone on Alex's desk, and dialed.

"Sophie, we're ready for you."

Moments later two women entered the room, one dark, one fair, both very attractive, as were all the women Alex chose for special duties and privilege.

The two men went out, and the two women proceeded to carefully undress me and pour bathwater in the adjacent bathroom. They thoroughly bathed me, washing my hair, and taking great pains in drying and combing it out, as if I were a child, or some special object. I felt as if I was watching myself, feeling far away and detached, like I was lost in some nightmarish deja vue, which, of course, I was.

They dressed me in a red gown of nearly transparent material. The bathing was bad enough, but at least I could pretend they merely wanted the scent of the sewer off of me. This dress though, could only mean one thing.

Thinking about the sewer sent a shudder through me, something that could have been a sob, but I cut it off somewhere in my throat. It wasn't safe anymore to let anything reach my heart. I sat on the bed, between the two women, and gazed at the ground.

The door opened and Alex entered, nearly filling the doorframe. He waved the women out, and they left with obedient nods. Alex crossed the room to his desk, fingered a slip of paper, then paced the room for a moment, his white brows drawn into a frown. He stopped in front of me.

"Lia," he said.

I looked up at him. He lifted my chin with his fingertips. "You look very lovely." His voice was almost tender, his expression, kind. "When we are through with tonight's business, we will reaffirm our wedding vows." He smiled. "And in the morning you will be reunited with your daughter. And we will be a family."

Alex being kind was more than I could handle. I was already at the breaking point, fighting every feeling that rose up in my heart. Tears welled up and I couldn't stop it anymore.

"Alex," I said lowering my head. "I don't think I can do what you're asking me to anymore-"

"What do you think I am asking of you?" he asked.

"This!" I cried, holding the diaphanous gown. "This! I can't do this anymore. Alex, please..."

To my surprise, he didn't appear to get angry. Instead he sat next to me and lifted my hand in his. "Lia, I am not going to ask anything of you tonight. At least, not what I assume you are thinking. This is to be nothing more than a little ruse, a gambit, towards an end which has nothing to do with myself, you or the Brotherhood." Alex gently stroked my hand.

"Then what is-?"

"Illusion," Alex answered, sensuously running his fingertips up my arm.

"I don't understand," I said, trying to stay clear, trying not to feel the small electric thrill moving through me.

"Ah, well..." Alex slipped a finger under the thin shoulder strap of the gown and delicately explored my collar bone as if he'd never seen one before. "You see, when I first encountered those creatures you enlisted to help you, I realized that I too, was going to need some help." Alex's hand was again stroking my throat, my jaw, so lightly it was more an impression than a sensation. "I was able to locate some individuals in the area who knew something about them. They called them "kappa", which is Japanese for 'demon'. As it turns out these folks had had some rather bad luck in their dealings with the kappa. One of them had murdered their leader..."

I drew in a breath and stiffened.

"Ah, so you have heard this story as well...Shhhhh.." Alex's fingers slipped over my lips, and he moved his face down close to mine, letting his breath warm my neck. I closed my eyes.

"So, we struck up an alliance of sorts," he said softly into my ear. "They had unfinished business with the kappa, and I wanted you, and here you were keeping company." I felt Alex's warm mouth on my neck, and his silky hair brushed my cheek. Following his words was becoming more and more difficult.

"Despite some organization difficulties, and a lack of leadership, these people did have some information which they could not seem to put to good use, but which proved to be very valuable to me. They had data banks on disc, which Samuel...you do remember Samuel? spent hours sifting through. What came of it was information on the kappas' habits, behavior, strengths, and weaknesses."

"What did you need that for?" I managed to whisper, so distracted by the feelings running through me now. Alex's face was buried in my throat, his hands moving over me. One hand came around my waist, lifting me back further onto the bed, and his weight pressed me down.

""What did I need that for?" Alex smiled over me. "To build a better mousetrap, or in this case, turtle trap..."

"Trap...?" I asked trying to lift my head.

"Yessss," Alex was softly moving his cheek over mine. He caught each of my hands in his and held them down against the bed. I felt his tongue flicker over my throat. "And Lia, you are such lovely bait..."

"Bait-? What?" I could barely find my voice, much les understand what he was telling me. He was on top of me now, I could feel the hardness of his body, his weight, his mouth covered mine and he pressed my lips open. My body was moving on its own, any traces of my self washed away by the thrumming of the blood in my ears, and my own breath.

And suddenly he was up, off of me, standing by the bed with a triumphant smile, though his own hard breathing betrayed him. "Stay hungry," he said huskily, and went out the heavy door. It shut with an ominous groan, and the sharp clang of a metal bolt being dropped.

I sat up unsteadily and ran my hands through my hair. Alex had me, body and mind. And about my soul, I couldn't say. Bait? I thought. Trap?

It took a moment to hit me. Alex had used my belief that the turtles were in danger to bring me to surrender-he planned to now use me for the same thing-to-oh my god-he was going to turn them over to their enemies!

I leaped across the bed and grabbed the phone on the desk and dialed the sewer's payphone number. A series of beeps and a busy signal interrupted my dialing. The system was closed, ringing only inside the building, connecting extensions.

I paced around the room. Bolted door, No windows. How could I reach them? And what could I say that would stop them from coming for me anyway?

_Illusion_...Alex had said _illusion_. What the turtles needed to know was that whatever they saw, it wasn't real.

I sat back down on the bed. I didn't know how much time I had, but I knew how I had to spend it. I closed my eyes, and took a long slow, breath. I let my body go, breathing, let my body fall away, with every ounce of strength I had, let the fear fall away. I sent a bolt of grounding energy down into the earth, and a light heavenward from the crown of my head. If there was a channel through which I could reach them, if there was anyone I could touch, I knew who it was.

I breathed into my body, and exhaled into the universe, and focused all my thought on reaching him.


	23. Chapter 23

The old Angel's Cathedral had been originally built in 1850, by the Catholic Diocese in an effort to create a spiritual home for the many disenfranchised Irish refugees who were flooding into New York in the wake of the Great Potato Famine. Construction was begun and abandoned several times and the church had finally developed a reputation for being haunted, having been the site of two unsolved homicides. When evidence that a Black Mass had been held there was discovered, it became nearly impossible to keep active parishioners. When the last priest was discovered one Saturday morning in 1936 hanging upside down from the inverted crucifix, the Church had closed the doors for good. It had been in the custody of the New Brunswick Historical Society for years, and had been recently purchased by a west coast based private party.

While the front and sides of the church were lavish with carvings and gilt ornate spires, the back wallwas somewhat nondescript, the roofline dropping to single story height. A rock wall enclosed a small garden area, long neglected and choked by weeds which fared better in industrial soot than roses and apple trees.

In this back section of the church were small rooms, used at one time for offices or private consultation rooms for counseling the bereaved or the betrothed. There was also a large kitchen with stainless steel sinks and elegant old black and white tiles. One window over the sink had been painted shut several decades prior, and some overheated cook had broken the wooden window frame in a frustrated effort to open it. It had been loosely re-nailed several times, but the wood was old, and full of dry rot. It gave way quietly to the prying of the tempered steel of a 12th century Japanese gardening-implement-turned-lethal-weapon.

Raphael grinned in smug triumph as he carefully removed the thin pane of glass and laid it in the dry weeds. With scarcely any more noise than the whisper of breath, one by one four dark figures, moving cat-like and cautious, climbed through the window, crouched on the sink, and slipped to the tiled floor. Keeping low, in the comfort of darkness, they hugged the walls, making their way to the door, Raphael on point.

The kitchen door swung open into a narrow hall. To their right a staircase ascended. Before them the hall went 20 feet and ended a "T". Raphael peered down either side into the darkness and shook his head. A faintly flickering light could be seen shining form somewhere above the staircase. Leonardo touched Raphael's shoulder, and with slight movement of his head, indicated that direction. On silent feet the four Ninja stole up the stairs.

The candle lit stairs led to a landing, a large semi-circle mirroring the shape of the east end of the church, the area of the altar and choir. Black curtains hung at ten foot intervals. A very faint light could be seen under the heavy velvet draperies. An eerie low humming, or murmuring sound rose and fell, almost below the hearing threshold.

With calm patience, moving so slow there appeared to be no movement, Donatello moved one section of drapery aside and looked out. They concealed a walkway which skirted the wall far above the twenty foot tall ornate columns. A carved banister ran around balcony. The vantage point provided a clear view of the entire interior of the church, or would have, were it not so dark.

From the thin light of a single candle below, Donatello could make out a small table or bench in the center, with something draped on it. Somewhat forward of that, a candle sat on the floor, and a dark figure, almost shapeless in the liquid shadows, seemed to sway and move with the rhythm of the low humming. As his eyes adjusted more, Donatello could make out five more figures, also robed and cloaked, standing in circle formation, facing outward. Without wasting movement glancing back, Don motioned for the others to follow. Dropping low, they crept up to the carved wooden railing of the overlook.

As the four turtles peered over the edge and down the 20 feet the floor of the apse, the sound increased in volume, enough that it could be recognized as the low chanting of men's voices. The thick scent of smoky incense drifted upward to them as they tried to make sense out of what they were looking at. With the greater volume of the monotone chant, Michaelangelo risked a hushed whisper.

"There's someone lying on that table..."

"It's Lia," Leonardo whispered back.

"It _look_s like Lia," hissed Donatello. "Lia's at home with Splinter..."

"It's Lia," repeated Leonardo with no doubt.

"What the hell...?" breathed Raphael.

Now the central figure, like some great dark beast slouching from the Pit, began to move around the circle, beginning at the far point, the East. His voice rose over the hypnotic intoning, speaking something indecipherable.

"Latin," clarified Donatello.

A bright red flame suddenly appeared, suspended in mid air before the great dark figure. His hand moved out of the robes, and as though painting with the flame, formed the shape of an inverted pentagram. He spoke more, and then moved to the southern quadrant, and repeated the formation of the flaming red pentacle, floating in the air, and again to the west, and finally to the north.

With the increased light from the red flames, the four turtles could more clearly see what was below them. The five people standing facing outward were outside a twenty foot wide, whitish circle, like chalk, drawn on the dark floor of the church. Within the circle the tall robed figure continued to speak, summoning someone, or something, from the points marked by the four flames.

They could see, very clearly now, along with several implements and the smoking incense burner pouring thick smoke, lying on the altar, bound hand and foot, was Lia.

"There's only six of 'em..." hissed Raphael, one hand gripping the hilt of a girthed sai.

"Raph," said Donatello. "It's a trap."

"Of course it's a trap," Raphael gazed down at the bizarre scene below them, a fierce grin spreading across his face, teeth gleaming in the yellow light. "So?"

"Yeah, do we have a choice here?" asked Mike. "I don't think so."

"It's a charade..." whispered Leonardo. "It's not real, it's...illusion..." his voice was far away.

"What?!" Raphael nearly spluttered. "Again? You said that was her! Is it, or ain't it?"

"It is, I'm sure of that..." Leonardo sounded puzzled. "But it's like an impression I've been getting for the past hour or so, that whatever we encountered, would be deception...not true..."

"Everything this guy does is a lie," pointed out Donatello. "That doesn't make him any less dangerous."

A chill passed over the four turtles, and they watched what was unfolding below in silence. From the four flaming pentacles a movement of air seemed to gather. The volume and pace of the chanting rose again, and the central figure, speaking in the dead language of the Sacred, stood over where Lia lay, raising his arms. The unnatural wind tugged at his robe.

The wind, or whatever it really was, gathered force at each of the four points, which appeared to be the source. It became visible, a swirl of incandescent red, lifting from it's points of origin and moving together, toward the center of the circle, over Lia. The four red swirls of light circled each other, spiraling, appearing to move as conscious entities, and as they drew together in one motion, merged into a single welling mass of reddish illumination. The watchers from above found themselves drawn in, staring in fascinated awe.

Leonardo recognized the hypnotic affect and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Don? Hey, Don!"

"Huh?" Donatello turned to him as if waking from sleep.

"Come here!" Leonardo abruptly grabbed Raphael by the arm, and jerked him below the railing. "Get Mike!" he told Don, who snagged Mike and pulled him down into the huddle.

"Listen to me," hissed Leonardo. "This is all for our benefit. He wants us to break cover. I'm sure he used some trick to get Lia here, and I'm sure what's going on is meant to draw us out."

"How do you know that, Leo?" asked Mike. "Isn't this the same sort of stuff he made her do all along?"

"Yes, and he's counting on us believing that...I can't explain how I know this. I just do."

Raphael rose up on his haunches and stole another glance over the side of the rail. "Leo," he said. "Look."

All four peered down again. The ephemeral reddish stuff had congealed and formed into the shape of a monstrous dragon-like creature, with horns and claws and bat-like wings. It floated, spiraling over Lia.

Raphael had one leg on the balcony rail. "Leo, come _on_-!".

"Wait-" Leonardo shook his head, watching the unworldly dragon. "That's what he wants-"

"Yeah, well maybe _she'd _appreciate it if we dropped in, ya know? Maybe we oughta consider that!"

Alexander Skylord, his hood now thrown back, his back to the turtles, faced Lia the dragon creature above him. He arms raised as if conducting a symphony, as the chanting welled to a faster and faster pitch. Hair blown by the chilling wind, hands lifted high, his voice rose over the mounting noise. Lia was moving now, writhing on the stone altar, as the thing poised over her, breathing like a locomotive to the rhythm of the chant.

"O Lia, disobedient one, for thy sins thou now shall atone-!"

They were watching the illusional dragon, the noise becoming deafening, the chant building to a frenzy, so when the dagger flashed and plunged into her chest, and she shrieked and, and convulsed, there was in instant of frozen disbelief. Blood spurted like a small fountain, and long before her screams dissolved onto gurgles, Raphael was over the balcony .

"Holy shit-" Leonardo, Michaelangelo, and Donatello plunged over the edge after him.


	24. Chapter 24

They landed in the darkness of the chalk circle behind Skylord: Leo, Mike and Don only a split second after Raphael. He leaped, sai blades drawn, at the dark-cloaked man with the great mane of white hair blowing in the unearthly wind-

-and fell right through the place where he had stood, suddenly engulfed in red smoke which had had moments before been a dragon, and onto the darkly stained altar and Lia's bloody body. Raphael leaped back off of her and whipped around, eyes wild. _Where is he?_

"Oh, my God..." Michaelangelo gasped at the sight of the mangled body. Skylord was gone, the five figures marking the points of the pentacle were motionless as standing corpses. The wind rose, whipping at the turtles, the chant becoming a low, moaning, howl.

"This- can't be-" Leonardo turned around, searching for some sign of Skylord, and then back to Lia, for some sign that his own eyes lied. He touched her and his hand came back wet with warm blood. "No..." He shook his head and laid his hands over the great gaping wound in a futile effort to close it. Michaelangelo felt at her throat for a pulse. And then felt again.

Leonardo's wide eyes met Mike's. "It's not real-" he said, but his tone was more a plea than a statement.

"Leo, let's just get her out of here-" Mike looked hurriedly over his shoulder. He drew a small knife from his belt to cut the ropes at Lia's wrists and feet.

A crack like thunder split the air with a deafening explosion, and it began to rain-a sticky, warm substance, staining the floor a dark red. All four ducked instinctively.

"This is bad-" said Don, glancing between Lia's body and around the dark chaos of the church's interior with it's unnatural weather and demented droning of distant voices.

Raphael, stared down at the altar, astonishment and horror and fury all battling across his features. He met Leonardo's gaze, eyes blazing with accusation, and gripped his sai. For an instant he could have leaped at him, could have ripped into him. At the very least, he could have ripped him with words, raged at him for hesitating, raged at him for his indecision, his failure to act when they needed to act- He saw the look on Leo's face, and knew he couldn't. He turned abruptly around shouting hoarsely into the darkness, "You killed her! You sonovabitch-!"

"Ah, perceptive...Raphael..." Skylord's voice boomed from somewhere over their heads. "But you are the deep thinker of the crowd, are you not?"

Raphael spun around, snarling, his rage sending him beyond words.

"Raph, stop," said Don, quietly, standing very still. "He's got you, Raph. He's playing you..."

"Why?" blurted Michaelangelo, looking up into the black nothingness above them. "I thought she was your wife-" His voice cracked with emotion.

"She outlived her usefulness," came Skylord's voice. "The child bears the same gifts she had, but will prove far more compliant than that one...Why do you care...Michaelangelo?"

Mike stumbled over his thoughts and collided with his feelings.. "It's not fair!" he cried. "She just wanted her kid back-she couldn't hurt you -what's the point? What's the point of _any_ of this?" Mike was close to tears of outrage. He couldn't even touch whatever grief was waiting in the wings ready to break on him.

"There are higher purposes to be served here tonight, than any of your minds can comprehend," Skylord's voice rumbled from what seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. "She has told you, has she not? No one leaves the Brotherhood. She needed to pay her debt in blood. As you four shall, as well, to those whom you have offended."

"Don't listen!" shouted Leonardo. "Don't listen to him! He lies!" He was still trying to close the wound, blood flowing freely between his fingers.

"Better you should listen...Leonardo," responded Skylord's voice. "And learn...for you shall not leave this place either. You shall be taken now. And your executions shall take place at dawn. Trust that your final moments will befit your ignoble lives. You were errors on the part of nature, failed adaptations, like the dodo bird. And you will die failed warriors who choked under pressure-"

If any of them could have quickly reached Leonardo, and covered his ears, and spared him that, they would have, even if they all felt much the same as he. Raphael instead tried to shout down Skylord's voice. "Face me!" he roared. "Show yourself, you piece of sh-!"

Another ear-shattering crack rolled through the church, drowning Raphael's challenge. In the back of the building, the pews were suddenly illuminated. Crowded into that space were what appeared to be hundreds of Foot, in the traditional garb, hooded, with bulging eye-gear, and armed to the teeth.

"Where'd they get all those guys...?" murmured Donatello.

"Illusion..." repeated Leonardo, his mind clawing at his perceptions. The knot in his stomach had solidified into a rigid mass, to the point of pain. He didn't fully believe anything he saw, but he was forced to believe, in order to act, in order respond to what was happening. He straightened, drew a single katana, eyes at the rear of the church, on the masses of black-clad men who stood, poised for battle, and then quickly down at the lifeless young woman on the stone altar. His hand reached for her again.

Donatello's hand was on his shoulder. "Leo, come _on_," he said hoarsely, and as gently as he could. "She's gone. We need to get ourselves the hell out of here-"

Michaelangelo, took a step back, resheathing the knife, and reaching for his weapons, numbing himself as best he could. Don was right. There was nothing more they could do for her-_how could this have happened?_

Something made them all turn around. Behind them a gray mass of fluttering rags took shape, and Skylord stood, not ten feet from them. He raised his arms and cried out over the din:

_Brei-nai heir kouthair en lich 'en neir dath_

_Michae-ah hien lich 'en neir li hahth!_

Raphael leaped at him, a guttural cry erupting through his bared teeth. He collided with something solid before he could reach him, and was repelled back like a ball hitting a wall, hitting the floor with a grunt. Leonardo sprang forward, his katana slicing the air with what would have been a killing stroke, had it struck. He spun around on his heels in confusion as the cold wind blew the red flames so the uncertain light kept shifting, and the bloody rain continued to pelt them.

Stunned, on the floor, Raphael pulled himself up onto his elbows. "I'm going to kill him-" he growled in a tone so low it was scarcely speech.

Mike was at his side, pulling him up. "Forget him, bro," he said. "It's seriously time to leave-"

A new low rumble could be heard now, beneath the chant of men's' voices. The floor shuddered with the vibration, as at the back of the church, the Ninja began to move forward. Not all moved, though; some waited, some advanced. The chanting increased in tempo, and the grisly yellow light reflected off the blades of the weapons borne in the hands of the dark hoard.

Raphael was on his feet . "Alright-here come the flyin' monkeys-"

"Oh, man," breathed Michaelangelo."If that's real, that's a whole army..."

"Heads up!" barked Leonardo, his years of training overriding where his heart, and now even his mind, seemed to be failing him. "Form a circle, watch your backs! We all leave here together!"

Backs to the circle, weapons at ready, they stood their ground as the first swarm of Foot descended upon them.

Donatello spun his bo staff and struck at the two Foot who charged down upon him. The staff went right through both, scattering them like dry leaves. He heard a whistle behind his head, and ducked in time to avoid being struck, and this time his low spin kick encountered a real human being who crashed to the ground. A fourth flew at him with a side kick, and while Don was fending off the insubstantial, another Foot landed a violent blow to his side.

Leonardo's blades sang through the air. An anguished scream confirmed his first target was flesh and blood. The next three disintegrated without resistance.

Michaelangelo, nunchakus spinning in a violent fury, had no better luck distinguishing between what only appeared to be living human beings and a real threat. There was no choice but to expend equal energy and effort on all attackers, and wasting time on phantoms was no less tiring and demanding than had they been real. He took down three live ones, leaving them writhing with broken bones, and two illusions, before someone landed a blow to his head that nearly brought him to his knees.

For Raphael, all the outrage and horror of the events just prior to this moment consolidated and hardened in his body. Plunging his sai into the guts of something that offered no resistance threw his timing off each time, but Raphael could recover on the strength of pure fury. He grasped that better than half of those men he ripped through were illusion, and for the most part, he didn't care.

Leonardo's frustration with the illusional Foot wore on his patience. One after another phantom scattered before his blades, with none of the satisfying sense of solidity. Wasted energy, he thought, as another seeming murderous ninja dissolved and his katana vainly cut only air. It was as if the real Foot avoided him. Or perhaps there were much fewer real Foot than he could have imagined.

And he knew he had to get everyone out of there. This battle, whatever it was, he knew, was not an end in itself. It seemed pointless, something to take up time, to tire them. Something else was coming. And he dared not consider, not allow into his awareness, for an instant, the oppressive weight of realizing his failure here-his failure-his error in judgment-

Leonardo's teeth jarred together with the shock of the blow to the back of his head. He reeled , then caught himself, cursing his stupidity and lack of concentration. He spun around, reversing his katana, cutting laterally across his attacker's chest. The man fell backwards, clutching at his shoulder, not even aware how much of him had been laid open. Leonardo parried another attack from a sword -wielding Foot, ducking a spinning mace from another direction. He scanned quickly around for Skylord-

_Cut off the head of the Serpent, Leonardo-_

He saw Donatello take two simultaneous hits while kicking at something that wasn't there. Donatello dropped for a moment to one knee, catching himself unsteadily with one hand. He lurched back to his feet, his bo swinging at nothingness where someone had appeared to be, as a very real katana caught him across his forearms.

It was Michaelangelo who first noticed the second wave of the onslaught. "Incoming! Hey guys! Round Two!"

"Oh, good!" Raphael grinned maniacally, catching a chain with one sai before the ball end of it could circle his neck. A second chain snaked around his legs. He leaped clear, and swung at the charging Foot who dissolved on contact. When a steel staff slammed into his ribs, carefully aimed to hit between his plastron and carapace where he was unprotected, the pain and surprise had equal impact. As he fought to regain his wind, his attacker struck at his head. Raphael ducked that, but a powerful kick to the back of his knee almost brought him down. He slashed at the man behind him with his sai, as another swung a bludgeon into his plastron. He staggered back, gnashing his teeth in fury.

Before the third wave hit, Leonardo knew they couldn't win this fight. They were tiring, but worse, there was something like a force field marking the perimeter of the chalk-etched circle which they could not penetrate. Even when pushed into it, they collided with what felt like a solid wall, keeping them trapped within the circle.

Michaelangelo disabled another attacker with strike to his knees, and as he turned to see who was next, he heard something like a walnut being cracked over his head. Suddenly an entire bucketful of the warm, sticky, fluid poured over his head, running into his eyes and mouth. Yaaghhh!" he yelled and frantically wiped his half-blinded eyes with the back of his hand. Through the blurred darkness he found himself confronted with an entirely different scene than what had been before him a moment before.

He was in a small, featureless, stone room. An iron door was shut before him. On the floor was a tray of half-eaten, rotting food, which had been slid to him through a slot in the door. He was bound by a chain to the wall, and sat crumbled on the floor. He felt the cold chains at his wrists, the slimy dankness of the filthy floor, and could smell a stench far worse than anything he had known in the sewer. Far worse than the physical horror, though, was a terrible feeling of isolation and sorrow. He was utterly alone, all the others were gone. There was no contact with any living soul; all he knew was an overwhelming loneliness. Forty years...sixty years...the thought rolled unbidden through his mind. The sorrow pulled at the pit of his stomach, his limbs were leaden. Death would be welcome...

Michaelangelo was dimly aware of someone shouting, as he was simultaneously struck from three directions. Stunned, he dropped to his knees and swung blindly with his chucks. They were torn from his hands as repeated blows hailed down upon him.

Donatello saw his brother go down, and sweeping his adversary off his feet, leaped to his aid. He heard something over his head give way with a sickening crunch, and looking up, caught the stream of warm gore full in the face. Donatello twisted away, half-staggering, as someone knocked him off his feet. He landed hard. Suddenly he was in a sterile laboratory, on some sort of examining table. White-masked technicians moved about him. His mouth was gagged, his jaw held shut with leather bindings. Straps restrained his hands and feet. He could make out what the two lab techs were saying under their very clean masks.

"I think at this point a full lobotomy would be appropriate. Analysis of the tissue would give us the answers we want..."

Donatello struggled against his restraints and tried to shout, his voice muffled.

"Oh, look, it's trying to talk again."

"I've seen it do that. It's ability to mimic human speech is quite remarkable."

"I think it might lose that capability after the lobotomy..."

"Most likely, but what we really want to understand is how it came to grow to such size. And for that we need to examine the tissue in both the prefrontal and medulla oblongata structures."

Donatello fought to orient himself. Neither the laboratory scene , nor the vision of Michaelangelo on the ground being pummeled by five Foot seemed real. In his effort to stand, he slipped on the slick floor. Something struck his temple with enough force to knock him nearly senseless, and after that he knew only pain, until he knew nothing at all.

Leonardo saw his brothers fall, and with renewed fury fought to reach them. The light caught another form moving within the circle: Skylord was visible again-

He stood before his altar, arms extended overhead, wind blown hair sweeping behind him. Smoke poured from the crucible, lie with an unearthly light. Skylord looked at once crazed and controlled. His deep voice throbbed some incantation in rhythm to the pounding, throaty chants of some demonic order of monks.

Leonardo and Raphael had the same thought -_get the Serpent's head now! _Both wrested free of the battling Foot, real and illusory. Both paid the price for diverting their attention from their assailants in the swirling chaos. They charged the altar, bleeding and torn.

Leonardo sprang forward, blade flashing in the changing light, shaking off a Foot soldier who clung to his left arm. Most of the man's body was dragged through the gore which coated the entire area within the circle. Leonardo slipped on the floor's surface, gathered himself and leaped at the Sorcerer in the center of the circle.

At the same moment Raphael leaped from behind, and two resounding cracks rent the air, one after the other, and both air born Ninja turtles were drenched in thick, hot, red liquid.

Leonardo's blade caught the fabric of Skylord's robe as he vanished. He had a momentary thought-that in trying to attack this illusive target, he had left Mike and Don still on the ground.

Raphael crashed into the altar, then into Leonardo, both blinded. The smoking crucible crashed to the floor, with a curved knife, several candles and containers. Raphael saw Skylord disappear, along with everything else.

He was in a cage, it was brilliant daylight, and a throng of curious humans peered in at him. Some simply stared, others threw popcorn and called to him. An attractive young woman wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned away. Someone pointed and whistled at him as if to a dog.

"Here boy, here. Want some peanuts?"

Three teenage boys taunted him.

"Hey, Ugly! Did your mama throw you out of the nest?"

"Aw, he ain't got no mama! He was morphed!"

"Hey, Freak! Your mama was a pile of ooze!"

There was no place for Raphael to hide, the cage was like a transparent box. He lunged at the bars, snarling in fury. Small children screamed, the adults laughed. One man chuckled something behind his hand to the woman with him about animals not needing to worry about indecent exposure-

Something struck him so hard across the face his neck snapped to one side. Before him the slanting red rain hailed down, his ears were filled with a rushing roar, and in the dim yellowish light, he saw Leonardo staggering under the weight of his own nightmare.

Leonardo was back in the construction pit, icy sleet pelting his face, a heavy freezing chain binding each arm, surrounded again by fifty or more Foot. They fell upon him, pounding and slashing, dislocating his shoulders, hacking at his carapace, bludgeoning his head. He hung against the chains, wracked in pain, again, unable to fight back, again. The masses parted to reveal, once again, Oroku Saki, alive again, blades glinting in the artificial light of the winter's night. Leonardo waited for the sting of the sword, waited to feel his own blood pour down his sides. He wondered what it would feel like to die.

Saki stepped back, silent, ominous, in total control. Two other Foot came forward, dragging a burlap bag which writhed and squirmed in their hands. They dumped the contents of the bag onto the snow before Saki.

Leonardo's heart stopped. "No..." he gasped through cracked lips. Before him, held roughly now by the two Foot, was his Master Splinter. Saki, with a slow deliberate motion, reached over Leonardo's head, and unsheathed the turtle's own katana from where it hung on his back. As Leonardo watched in helpless horror, Saki raised the katana over Splinter's neck. The sensei's dark eyes sought his student's.

"My son," said Splinter slowly. "You...have...failed...me.."

The blade whistled through the air. Leonardo's cry was lost in the cacophony of the pounding and howling, and the murky darkness of the church's interior.

Leonardo was the last to fall. He tried to cover his head with his arms as the blows flailed down on him, and at last resolved to lie very still, wondering with a strange sort of detachment, if it was even a matter of choice. He slipped from consciousness, flickering back into dim awareness for a moment, then there was nothing.


	25. Chapter 25

I came out of the trance thinking about blood. I could still hazily see things that seemed to me to have happened a long while ago. Dark shadowy images, the chill of a cold wind, the smell of smoke, a dark place, and a battle…

I drew in a deep breath. I tried moving my arms, and found a satiny quilt beneath me. The bed. I was on the huge carved four poster bed. I opened my eyes and with an effort, curled to one side and heavily pulled myself up to a reclining position, supporting myself with my hands. My body felt as though it was still sleeping, but there was some sense of urgency…something I had to do…

I was back in Alex's private chamber, with its heavy, overbearing, oak furniture and the thick smell of dark incense everywhere. Candles burned in iron sconces set into the walls. My street clothes were folded on the chair by the door. I was still dressed in the diaphanous red gown. Red, the blood….

Before my eyes flashed the vision of four turtles lying still on the floor of the darkened cathedral, blood everywhere. Men in black dogis bent over them, taking them away.

"Oh, God!" I looked around. I had to get out of there. I had to find them! Were they even alive? I had to think. I had to-

The door opened and Alex stepped quietly into the room, closing it softly behind him. In one hand he held a bucket of ice with a champagne bottle and in the other, two crystal glasses. He had changed from the black robes he had worn earlier into a brilliant blue silk jacket and trousers. His long hair gleamed platinum in the lamplight.

I had a single moment of absolute crystal clarity. What I had to do was to make Alex believe _I was back_—fully and wholly back with him- with no reservations. I didn't have a plan, but I knew. I tilted back my head seductively, turning on my warmest smile.

"Alex…" I said, shutting down all my fear, all my horrible dread of what may have happened to the turtles, trying not to even think of their names, see their faces. I shut down everything I was feeling and forcefully substituted another feeling. If I could make myself believe I adored him, drive my all feeling senses back four years, to how I used to feel about him, I had a small, small, hummingbird feather's chance of fooling him.

He smiled back, part smug triumph, part pleased surprise, and beneath it all, a layer of deep fatigue he sought to conceal.

"You know, Alex, when you do what you do, you are magnificent."

He raised his brows, the gleam in his eyes untempered by any attempt at false modesty. Alex turned and set the bottle and glasses on the dresser.

"There was a time you thought so, Lia. I feared you had forgotten."

"I didn't forget," I answered softly. "I haven't forgotten any of it."

He turned back quickly as if to check my meaning. I shook my hair back, raising my face to him, still smiling sweetly.

"Ah…"

"But Alex, I have to ask you, I need to know this. Those turtle creatures…"

"The kappa."

"Right. What's happened to them?"

Alex paused, gazing into my face, searching for my feeling. Indigo eyes burned into mine, looking for what lay below the surface of my question. I forced myself to think about men on death row. I visualized prison- hardened faces in my mind, hateful tattoos, and violent hearts shrunk with bitter anger. I felt pity, even some compassion, coupled with the realization that they deserved to be where they were.

Alex's face was expressionless, as though he was trying to empty himself of all feeling in order to more clearly read mine.

"The Foot have taken them below. They are under heavy guard. In the morning they will be executed."

I nodded as dispassionately as I could, stuffing down the little leap for joy my heart made at knowing they were still alive. "That's too bad," I said thoughtfully. "They were my friends. I do know what they are, Alex. I mean, I know they are dangerous, but I think they really did try to help me, you know, when I was confused and scared."

Alex nodded, and stepped closer to me. He touched my cheek tenderly, and I liked it. "That may be, Lia. But they owe the Foot a blood debt. When their heads roll at dawn, a long time feud will be done, and there will be no more bloodshed. From this time onward, Lia, they are no longer any concern of ours."

I nodded, looking down, acquiescing, finding it so easy to fall into the behaviors I practiced so perfectly while I was with him.

Agree with Alex.

Accept his greater wisdom.

The line between playacting and habit was so thin as to be invisible. I could almost believe I really felt the way I was saying I did. It was uncanny. I could almost see myself doing this again, almost see myself going through the motions. I smiled at him. Dear Goddess, he was beautiful…..

Alex sighed deeply, and I knew he was tired. I felt sympathy for him, genuine and deep. He was so committed to his work, to bringing others out of the shadows of their doubts, to healing the men who came to him with their wounds inflicted by domestication, and a female dominated society….

I was there. I knew it. I allowed myself one instant to recognize the transformation, one instant to objectively acknowledge that I could now hear Alex's teachings echo in my mind and _believe_ in it, and then buried the thought in blind admiration of the exquisitely powerful man who stood before me.

He turned back to the chilling bottle and twisted it in the ice, the sharp crunching sound went through me like nails on a chalkboard.

"So tell me, Lia, how have you spent your time these past two years? Besides raising our daughter?" He glanced over his shoulder at me again. "And she is a beautiful child, Lia. You have done well with her. Together we will do better, though. A child needs two parents. You know that."

I nodded mutely.

Alex turned, the bottle in hand and popped it open. It exploded, the cork shooting across the room, champagne burbling over the mouth of the bottle. He caught it deftly first one glass and then the other, golden bubbles tumbling into the crystal.

Crossing the room, Alex handed me one glass.

"To our future," he smiled that dazzling, little boy, white-toothed, deep-creased, high cheek-boned smile at me. I raised my glass and we drank together.

"So-" he began.

"Wait. I want the cork," I said brightly, reaching for his glass.

Alex frowned a little, still smiling. "Why?"

I smiled mysteriously.

He shrugged a little, with an expression indicating he would be willing to humor me, stood, and walked around to the other side of the bed. He bent down, looking for it, his back to me.

The black stone on the ring I wore on the middle finger of my right hand has a tiny clasp, which opens soundlessly when flipped up. Inside there is room for nearly an ounce of a powdered mixture given to me by Belladonna, the primary ingredient of which is her namesake. I dumped the whole thing into Alex's glass.

"So, Lia…" Alex walked back around the bed. He handed me the cork and I took it and sniffed it with relish, smiling sweetly. "I know I have asked you this three times now. What have you been doing with your time while you have been away from me?"

"Studying, mostly." I brushed the cork over my lips.

"Studying? Hm. Without my guidance? What have you been studying?" Alex took his glass from my hand and took a sip. He sat back down on the bed.

"Herbal lore, mostly."

"Herbs?"

I drank deeply from my glass, gazing at him over the rim. "Mm hm. You know, botanicals, healing salves, aromatics…"

Alex took another good swallow.

He was looking into my face, quizzical, amused. I saw the instant his expression changed, a fleeting look of surprise, a flash of alarm-

"Demulcents, anodynes, analgesics, calmatives…."

Alex stiffened, his eyes widening. He suddenly reached out vainly toward me, his coordination unexpectedly failing him, pitching forward-

"And sleeping powders," I finished, scrambling quickly back out of his way as he toppled face first, onto the bed next to me.

I sat for a moment, paralyzed, panting in fear, staring at Alex where he lay still. Then I flipped my legs around and leaped off the bed. I scanned the room, my heart threatening to burst through the walls of my chest. Clumsily I stumbled to the pile of my clothing on the chair, tearing through it and found the small bag I had worn earlier. I slipped the cord around my neck. I started to rip off the horrible red gown, and then realized I couldn't put my regular clothes back on lest someone see me. It would look too much like an escape attempt. I had to look the part of the reconciled wife. I shuddered inwardly and I tore open the closet by the dresser, searching through the garments hanging in there. They were all Alex's size, but one long white hooded robe looked like it would at least stay on me. I pulled it over the red gown and tied the braided gold rope tightly around my waist. It would have to do.

On an impulse I picked up the ice bucket, and tried the door. It was open. Of course. Why would Alex have needed it locked? In his vanity, he had believed me and bought my flattery hook, line, and sinker.

Without a backward glance, I slipped out the door and into the hall, knowing only that I had to go below, back down the stairway that had led me to Alex earlier that night, and then further. I closed the door, and pulled the heavy cross bar down, locking Alex in. I knew it wouldn't hold him for long, once he awakened. And I had no idea how much time I had.

The ice-filled bucket was heavy, and I moved as quietly as I could, barefoot, over the chill wooden floor of the hall. I found the stairway and began my descent, my heart still pounding so loud I feared someone would hear it.

I wasn't ready to even think about it, but I knew that what I had just done to Alex was an insult beyond anything I could ever have imagined doing. Worse even than running away, because that had been the frightened act of a helpless girl. Tricking him, and then rendering him unconscious and helpless, was an assault on his control, his strength, manhood. At least that was the way Alex would see it. And what his reaction would be, once he came to, was not something I even wanted to guess at.

I would deal with that when the time came. Now, I had a far more important task.

The candle sconces in the walls gave way to torches, few and far between, as the iron stairs wound down. Shadows danced eerily on the dark stained walls where the torch fires swayed. Just before reaching the fifth floor down, I heard someone below. I froze, pressing up against the cold wall, too afraid to even think where I could hide. I listened. I could make out two male voices.

"Come on Tsui, let me go. I swear those things aren't going anywhere. I'm sure they're dead."

"No, Takimoto-san. You have already sent away the others. This is foolishness. If Madame, or Fujimoto-san were to find out-"

"Yeah, and who's gonna tell 'em unless you do?"

"I tell you Takimoto-san, those creatures are too dangerous."

"Yeah, I know. Remember? Who knows that better than me?"

"Forgive me please, for the rudeness. I have great respect for your father's family…"

"Tsui, those things are dead. Dead! Why the hell else would they ask you and me, two rank beginners, to keep guard?"

"Because everyone one else is dead or wounded?"

I heard an exasperated exhale from the first speaker, the one who sounded in no way Japanese.

The one called Tsui cleared his throat. "Also, Takimoto-san," he said again, "please remember, it was you who sent away the others."

Holding my breath, I risked peeking around the corner. The arguing men stood before a huge heavy door, bolted, like Alex's room, with a heavy iron cross bar, and a large padlock. Both men were dressed identically in the uniform of the Foot, black from head to toe, heavily woven material protecting their arms and chests, the black hoods, with goggle-like eye protection. Both bore sheathed katana across their backs, bearing far too close a resemblance to someone I didn't dare even think about.

I flattened back up against the wall, squeezing shut my eyes, trying think. There had to be a way to do this.

I'm not going to overpower them by force. There is only one way I'm going to be able to pull this off.

I tugged down on the front of the white robe, exposing the deep décolletage of the red gown, pulled the hood low over my face, and stepped out from behind the wall. I cleared my throat.

"Hai! Who goes there?" cried one of them as both reached or their weapons.

I stood still, trying hard not to shake. "It is I, Lia Ana Skylord, Wife of Alexander, Mistress of all Magical Rites of the Brotherhood of the Holy White Light."

"Who-? Oh. Oh. You're the, uh…"

"You are the wife of Mr. Skylord…"

"I am," I said solemnly.

Both men slowly re-sheathed their katana.

"What – what are you doing here?"

"Please, good sirs, you must help me. My Master is displeased. He has ordered me to stand watch here, to win back favor."

They stood still, staring at me.

I gazed back at them, trying to breathe normally.

"Please."

"You want to stand watch with us?"

"No. I must stand alone. It is my punishment."

The two looked at each other.

"No. No," said the one with the strong accent, the one I imagined was Tsui. "No, we cannot leave our posts. You may stand with us, but it is our duty…"

"Please…" I said again, moving toward them. I drew close to the one I thought would be the easiest since he wanted to leave anyway. He was tall. It was impossible to discern the look on his face, but I placed myself where he could get a good look down the front of my gown. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I held the heavy ice bucket in one hand and touched his chest with the other. "Please help me."

"Uhhh…" the expressionless black hood murmured.

"If you will do me this favor, your kindness will not go unrewarded."

"I…" Takimoto's voice was a little squeaky. "I've heard about you…"

I lowered my lashes. "Then you know I speak the truth."

Takimoto looked back and forth uncertainly between Tsui and I. "We _are _supposed to be working with the Brotherhood. Cooperation and everything…"

Tsui said nothing. I turned toward him, sidling closer. "If you will allow me this one great favor, my Master will not beat me. And you, both of you, will be made happy men."

Takimoto grabbed Tsui's arm. "Give her the keys."

"What?"

"You heard me. Give her the damn keys."

Tsui fumbled with the large key ring looped through his belt. "I do not think…this is not a good idea," Tsui said, without much conviction. Takimoto grabbed the ring and handed it to me.

"Ok. Here you go."

I closed my hand around the cold steel.

"Come on, come on." Takimoto was shoving his confused partner up the stairs. He turned back to look at me. "Don't forget, babe. You owe us."

I nodded and smiled. Sweetly.

_Awareness..._

_Breathe..._

_Pain._

_Head hurts...body hurt...somewhere cold...Darkness._

_Fight this!_

_Pain...have to move...have to..._

_Move!_

Leonardo moved, felt himself lying face down, somewhere cold, and hard. Salty taste of blood in his mouth. He pulled in his arms, got his elbows under himself-

_Pain..pounding in my head..damn...they musta tried to cave my skull in..._

Up! Leonardo pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, swaying unsteadily. He could see nothing, felt a cold, steel grate beneath his hands. Listening, he could hear someone breathing rustily nearby. He could smell his brothers...alive.

_Get them out!_

_But...Out of where?_

Leonardo knew he needed to keep aware, keep thinking, keep reaching through his mind. He remembered the battle, the church, the smell of smoke, and blood, and death...

He saw her face for a moment in his mind. The uncertain puzzled look, when he had drawn his katana, and made a vow on it...that fragile moment when her trust was there and she believed in him-

His arms buckled; he dropped to his elbows-

_Can't think about that now-_

_Get up! Move! Now!_

Breathing hard with the effort, he moved, the chains clanking and scraping along the steel floor.

_I can feel them nearby...they are all the reason I need-_

_Get up, Leonardo!_

A sound-!

There was a sound, like a heavy bolt being lifted, then a loud clang as it fell back down.

_Damn! Someone's at the door-already-_

The bolt scraped again, and fell again, hitting the floor this time. The sound of keys turning in the locks. Leonardo struggled to pull himself up, willing himself to rise. The four inch lengths of chain held him too close to the ground.

_Weapon! A weapon somewhere-there must be-!_

He grasped at the chains that held his arms. The door swung slowly open, candle light dazzling into the tiny room. A lone figure stood in the doorway, white robed, cowl hiding the face, holding something like a large bucket.

_It's one of those Brotherhood guys-what the hell is that for-?_

His own adrenaline hitting his system was too much. Leonardo fought the wave of dizziness, felt his head about to explode, and then fell to one side, losing consciousness again.

_Something cold...cold water on his mouth...swallowing...not water...something bitter, cool, and invigorating._

Leonardo's eyes flew open. "Lia-!" he rasped and grabbed my wrist. For a moment he stared into my face.

"Help my brothers."

"Leo-"

"Go on, help them-"

"I have keys-" I said lifting the huge, heavy ring. "I think this is the set for these..." I started to work on the shackle on Leonardo's arm.

"I'll get it-" he took the key ring. "This is really you?"

"Yes, it's me. Really."

He nodded faintly. "You're going to have to explain this to me later..." He gestured to the three still forms lying shackled to the steel floor. "Go on, help them now," he rattled. "Give them whatever you gave me."


	26. Chapter 26

I had no time to prepare myself for what I might see when I opened that door. And they had, in fact, looked as gray and lifeless as the pile of bloodstained weapons lying just outside. But Leonardo had responded, so I had hope for Don and Mike and Raph. I knew I dared not think. Just act. Just do what I needed to do.

I scooted over to where Raphael lay. He looked every bit as bad as Leo had. Maybe worse. I raised his head into my lap, dipped the packet into the bucket of ice water again, and squeezed the liquid into his mouth. Blood from a head wound flowed over his mask and onto my hands. I ripped a strip off the hem of my over sized robe, and pressed it gently to Raphael's head to staunch the bleeding. I squinted in the candlelight, trying to see how the others looked. Donatello was on his side, bleeding heavily from several deep gashes in his arms, and the back of his shoulder. His mouth hung open. Michaelangelo lay on his stomach, one arm twisted unnaturally underneath him, motionless.

"Raphael, can you hear me?" I asked, squeezing another dose of cold infusion between his lips. He sucked in a wheezy breath, and started to choke. He raised his hands, weakly batting my hand from his mouth. I raised his head higher.

"Doan'...drown me..." he gasped. He swallowed and opened his eyes, unfocussed for a moment, then lit with the recognition as they met mine. "Hey..." He reached up with one hand and tugged at the front of my robe, pulling it open.

I gasped indignantly and moved to stop his hand, but then realized he must have been looking for some non-existent wound. At least, I think that was what he was looking for.

"Oh, good...tha's good," Raphael grunted and rolled to one side.

"Raphael, are you...?"

"Fine. Great," he croaked. "Couldn't be better..." He noticed the shackles at his wrists and legs as they dragged noisily on the steel floor. "Wha' th' hell izsis...?"

"Here." Leonardo tossed the key ring over to him.

Raphael pulled himself up on one elbow, took the ring, and stared at it in his hand for a moment, scowling in consternation. I reached for his head wound again with the piece of fabric. He watched me quietly as I pressed it against his head.

"You're lookin' awful good for someone I just watched die."

"If that's what you saw, it was probably what you were afraid of," I said.

"Afraid..." Raphael coughed a little and fumbled with the keys. "Yeah, well. Good thing. Now I don't have to kill Leo."

I frowned and wondered if he wasn't a little delirious.

"Don't worry about it," he touched my chin. "I'm just glad..." He cleared his throat. "How's Mikey?" I glanced over at him and quickly moved over there.

Leonardo was bent over Donatello. "Don, hey, Don, you ok?"

"Give him this-" I leaned over and handed Leo the herb packet. "With water."

"What's in it?" asked Leonardo dipping the herbs into the ice bucket and bringing it to Don's mouth.

"I don't know. Belladonna wanted me to give it to you, and I kept forgetting."

"Hm. Well, she probably meant it for right now, anyway," said Leonardo.

I slowly rolled Michaelangelo onto his back. I hadn't realized how heavy he would be. It took all my strength. His mouth lolled open and he was completely dead weight in my arms. His shoulder looked all wrong.

"Mike..." I said, lifting his head into my lap. I put my face close to his, but I couldn't feel any breath. I pressed one hand to his chest and felt no movement, nothing. Blood seeped between the plates of his plastron. "Mike-Michaelangelo-" I couldn't get under his shackles to find a pulse at his wrists. I felt for the carotid artery I knew had to be somewhere in the thick muscles of his neck. I couldn't find a pulse there, either. He was way too cold. I put my cheek to his mouth again. Still nothing. "Mike!" I felt my own veins turn icy. "Leo," I said. "Mike's not breathing-"

"Mike!" Raphael half-crawled, half-scrambled over. Leonardo tossed me the herbs, I raised Mike's head and squeezed the liquid into his mouth. It ran back out over his cheek. I looked up and caught Raphael's wild look. He put his ear to Michaelangelo's chest and listened for a long time. I tried another dose of the herb infusion. Leonardo and Donatello crawled over to us.

"Ok, ok," I said, fighting to remain calm, and feeling cold all over. "We try CPR. Anyone here know...?"

"Lia..." said Don weakly.

I looked at the blood oozing through Michaelangelo's chest plate and wondered if CPR would do more harm than good. I turned his head to the right and put my fingers in his mouth and swept back as far as I could, getting only blood.

"Lia..." Donatello's voice was barely a whisper.

I tipped back his head, hooking my thumb on his lower teeth to pull his jaw forward. I pinched his nose as best I could, since his nose wasn't really much more than two small nostrils on his muzzle, and tried to get my mouth to cover his. Even trying to close the corners of his mouth with my hands I couldn't get a tight seal, his mouth was just too wide. My breath effected no movement in his chest. I looked up, and saw the three of them exchange looks.

"Lia, wait," said Donatello, his voice weak and shaky. "I think Mike's ok. He's hurt...but I don't think it's as bad as...as it looks to you..."

I stared at him. "Don, he's not breathing!"

"Yeah, but he may have just...we've had to do it before...it's part of turtle physiology...humans can't do it...but we can." Just talking was difficult for him.

"Do what?"

"It's like a state of hibernation...Mike may have just slowed his metabolism down...to where...his heart and breath rate are so slow...he doesn't appear to be doing either."

I sat back a little, cradling Mike's head in my hands. "Do you know that for sure?"

Don shook his head, and nearly fell over with the effort.

"So what do we do? How do we wake him up?"

No one answered. They were still so dazed. Still trying to get oriented. Still trying to just sit upright.

"Hold on," said Leo, running a hand over his eyes. "Gimme a minute to think..."

I ripped another strip of fabric from my hem and handed it to Don. "Here, press this against that bad one...you...you're losing a lot of blood." He took the rag and gave me a weak little smile.

"Good to see you looking so healthy..." he said softly. He looked down at his lacerated arms. "Heh, which one's the bad one?"

I felt something begin to let down. I had been running on pure adrenaline. I couldn't stop now. They were still in terrible danger. I had bought us some time, but I didn't know how much. I looked down at Michaelangelo's face, usually so animated, now looking so still. I stroked his cool cheek. _Don't start crying now, Lia..._

"Lia," said Leonardo very quietly. "Listen to me. We are all going to walk out of here together."

"Actually, Leo," came a grating voice from my lap. "I'd be real ok with_ running _out of here..."

"Mike!" I squeaked. "Are you ok?"

"Hey Bro-!" Raphael looked terribly relieved, and grabbed his hand.

"Hey, Mike-" wheezed Donatello.

Michelangelo's bright, pale, gold eyes opened and he grinned. "Hi bros...Hey dudette..."

"Welcome back, little brother," said Leonardo.

"Mike," Raphael's mouth was twisting into a funny grin. "How long have you been conscious?"

"Oh, aaahh...hmm..." Michaelangelo rolled his eyes. "Wel-l-l-l, I guess, about since when someone kissed me...am I a prince yet?" He grinned at me again.

"I-I wasn't kissing you!" I stammered.

Raphael laughed out loud, and then started coughing.

"I was scared to death for you! I thought you were dead!" I started to move out from under him, but stopped as he winced.

"Ow," he grimaced. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry..." He tried to look serious. "No, I'm not."

"Are you guys nuts? Goofing around at a time like this?"

"Well, I dunno," said Mike. "You're not dead. We're not dead. Seems like as good a time as any!"

"How are you feeling, Mike?" asked Don.

"Not sure, really.." Mike turned to one side and started to sit up. His face suddenly twisted in pain. "Agh! Wait a minute..." Leonardo and Raphael took his arms. "Wait..."

They slowly stood, bringing Mike up with them. His face went a pale gray-green and he gritted his teeth. "Oooh, that smarts..." he said with an effort at bravado.

"You are really hurt, aren't you?" I asked, suddenly feeling bad for having gotten angry.

"Nah..."

I stood and offered Don my hand. He held it, but refused to put any weight on me as he stood. "What is it, Mike?"

"Ribs, prob'ly..hard to breath. Shoulder's not quite in the right place," Mike made another effort at grinning, which quickly faded. "Damn..."

Leonardo probed Mike's left shoulder and collar bones. "We should fix that now."

Mike closed his eyes, sucking in a breath. "Yeah, go for it..."

None too steady on their own feet, Raphael and Donatello braced their arms against Mike's plastron, and gripping the ridge of his carapace, held him still.

Leonardo felt down Mike's arm. "Nothing broken in here, right?"

Before Mike could answer, Leonardo had straightened his arm and jammed it back into the shoulder cap. Mike gasped and went dead white, knees buckling under him as he lost consciousness. He would have fallen, had Don and Raph not held him.

My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe he did that. Leo stood in front of him and took Mike's face in his hands.

"Mike...hey.." he said gently. He looked over his shoulder at me and with a quick gesture indicated the herb packet in my hands. I handed it to him and he squeezed it into Mike's mouth.

"You had to do that _now?_ I asked.

Leo nodded. "We may need that arm."

"Whoa..." moaned Mike, coming around. "Uhhh, thanks guys, I needed that..."

"Where are we, anyway?" asked Raphael, turning to me as he supported Mike.

"Five levels underground, below the church."

"Don't s'pose there's an elevator, huh?" asked Mike weakly.

"Can you walk, Mike?" asked Leonardo. "If we help you?"

"Yeah...I'll be ok, Leo. I can walk."

"Ok, let's move out. Did you see anyone out there, Lia?"

''There were only two Foot at the door, and I sent them away. Alex is hopefully still unconscious and locked in his room. There were two of Alex's men upstairs, but I didn't see them on the way down. Your weapons are right outside the door."

All four turned and stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You-" Leonardo started. "What did you do out there?"

"I didn't do anything..."

"Alex unconscious in his room?"

"Oh, that..." They were looking at me very strangely. "I..uh...well, I have this ring...and the stone has a hinge on it and I...uh...I put a sleeping powder in his champagne..."

"You drugged him?" Don's expression mirrored Leo's.

"And you chased off two foot-trained Ninja?" asked Raphael.

"Well, I'm not sure. I think they were like the second string team, or something. I just told them I was supposed to stand guard."

"Remind me to ask you about that later, too," said Leonardo. "Right now, let's get out of here." With Mike braced between them, Leo and Raph headed for the door

Donatello moved ahead and slowly pushed the door open, peering out. "Clear..." he whispered. I picked up the key ring and slipped the soggy bag of herbs around my neck and followed them out.

They silently reclaimed their weapons in the candlelit anteroom outside the tiny dungeon. Raphael peered around the curve of the wall, looking up the staircase. "Don't hear a thing," he whispered low.

Slowly we made our way up the stairway. At the third floor landing I pointed to the wooden door leading to the passageway to Alex's room. "He's down there.." I whispered.

"How'd you pull that off?" asked Don.

"His guard was down. Those really powerful illusions, all those spells you fell under, wear him out. He didn't see it coming."

Raphael looked up at the door, gripping the panting Michaelangelo to his side. "Yeah, well, he won't see _me_ coming..."

Leonardo shot him a look over his shoulder. "No one's in any shape, Raph..."

Raphael said nothing.

"Come on," I urged. "Please."

We made it to the ground floor, and stood in the darkened foyer of the church. The hundreds of little candles had burned out. No one could avoid looking at the six doors which led to the room where only hours before the four of them had been beaten down, not by superior physical prowess, but by Alex's insidious psycho-magic..

Leonardo peered out the door to the empty, quiet street. "Ok, " he breathed. "We 're gone. There's a manhole it looks like half a block up, going north. Stay close in, we'll break for the street on my word..."

I hung back by the door at the top of the stairs.

"Lia," Leonardo gestured to me. "Come on."

"I'm staying."

He nearly fell against the door. "What?"

"I said, I'm staying. I'm going to stay here."


	27. Chapter 27

"You what? You're _what?"_

"I'm going to stay here," I repeated. "You guys, go on. Please. Don't make this any harder."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Raphael. The other three just stared at me, looking confused.

"Raph, he's won. He'll always win. All I've managed to do is get nearly everyone I care about now hurt. Don't-don't-" I felt myself choking up. "Don't argue with me. I've decided. I belong here. With Alex."

"He hasn't won anything-!" said Don, leaning against the door, still breathing heavily from the climb up the stairs.

"You guys were just now almost killed. And the only reason you weren't, is because the Foot want to ceremonially chop off your damn heads at sunrise! Now, go-go on! Get out of here!"

"You don't mean you want to stay with him," said Mike. "You mean you've given up."

"I mean, I've made a decision. My family is here. You guys, please, go back to yours-"

"Ok," said Raphael. "This is bullshit." He motioned to Don. "Here, hold him." Don and Mike slumped into one another. Raphael stalked toward me. I started to rush back down the stairs, but he was unbelievably fast. In one movement he slung me up over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"No-!" I gasped.

"Yeah, 'fraid so," said Raphael. "We shoulda done this a long time ago. Saved us all alotta trouble." He carried me to the doors. "Ok, Leo. _Now_ we all leave together."

Mike was grinning impishly, despite whatever pain he was in, and Don just looked relieved.

"Wait! No!" I yelped and then remembered where we were and dropped my voice to a harsh whisper. "Please, Raph, you have to let me stay! Please! It's Rose! _Leo_-please!"

Leonardo had a door open. Apparently, for once, he had no problem with Raphael's tactics. He paused and turned to me. "What? Is she here? Do you think she's really here?"

"I know she is," I whispered. "Please...I can't leave her here. I can't leave her with him."

Leo closed his eyes and shook his head. "Look, Lia, we were led off on a wild goose chase through half of Brooklyn running after an illusion we thought was her. Not to mention we all just watched you have your heart cut out...Do you really _know?" _

I could only nod, willing him to understand.

"Leo, no," said Raphael, very low.

"I tried to tell you about the other things, Leo. I tried to tell you everything you saw would be illusion."

He looked up, eyes widening. "I know...I heard you..."

"Leo, please. You have to believe me. Yes, Alex has tricked me before, and no, sometimes I don't make very good decisions. But some things, I just_ know_. And I know my baby is here, somewhere."

Leonardo looked over at his two badly hurt brothers, at Raphael, still stubbornly holding me captive, and at the door. He drew in a deep breath. "Alright," he said. "If she is here, then we're not done yet."

"No!" I gulped. "That's not what I meant-You guys can't stay! Just leave _me!"_

"I can't do that," said Leonardo. "I took a vow. And no, you can't release me from it, because I know that's what you'll say next."

"We goin' back in, Leo?" asked Raphael. He didn't sound too disappointed.

"Yeah. We finish this tonight. Except Mike and Don..."

"Hey, Leo," said Mike. "I took that vow, too."

"Yeah," Don was pulling himself up straight. "You can't presume to make all our decisions for us, Leo-"

"Don-"

"Leo-"

"Aghh!" I blurted in frustration. "You are all so stubborn!"

"What do we do with her?" asked Raphael.

Leonardo gazed at me for a moment, weighing something in his mind. "Well, first, put her down."

"I can't spank her first?"

Leo almost smiled.

Raphael reluctantly let me slide from his arms. An unsettling, eager, light was coming up in his gray eyes.

Leo turned to me. "Now, just tell me the truth. You don't really want to stay here and try to work it out with that...with Skylord, right? Rose_ is _the only reason you would stay here, right?"

"I didn't fool you, did I?"

"No."

"Rose is the only reason."

"Then what are you doing here?" Donatello asked. "Mike can't keep a secret from anyone. He told us he had told you we saw Rose here. So you knew how close we were, or thought we were. What are you doing-?"

"Alex convinced me he had caught you guys. He said he'd let you go if I gave myself up. I'm sorry." I looked down.

"You thought _we_ were in danger?" said Mike. He, too, was working hard at standing up straighter.

"So," said Leonardo. "Skylord knows you only came here for our sake. He couldn't be too happy about that."

"Well, I think I convinced him I really wanted to be with him."

"How?"

"Don't ask me that, Leo..."

He blinked and paused for two beats. "Ok."

"Come on, Leo," urged Raphael. "Let's do this thing. We hang around here much longer someone's gonna-"

The door to our left abruptly slammed open. A man dressed in street clothes came barreling out, head down, oblivious to us, eyes on a fistful of papers in his hand. He never knew what hit him until he was flat on his back with Raphael on top of him and the point of a sai at his throat.

"Wha-ghlaa-"

"Shuttup! Not a fuckin' word!" Raphael hissed.

I took a step closer, tilting my head to better see the terrified man on the ground. Except for the beard he looked so familiar-"That's Sam!" I gasped.

Mike had my hand, pulling me back. "Oh, your good buddy Sam, heh?"

Raphael jerked him to his feet, the sai still pressed against Sam's neck. "Looks like a tour guide to me. How 'bout it, chumly? You wanna tell us where this lady's little girl is?"

Sam's eyes were wild, flying between his captors and me. "Lia-!" he croaked.

"Yeah, yeah, you two can get all caught up later. Right now, you gonna take us to where the kid is, or are you just useless meat?" Raphael applied a little more pressure to Sam's arm and throat for emphasis.

"Downstairs-" Sam's voice was squeaky. "Bottom of the stairs-"

"Why does this not surprise me?" grumbled Don with resignation.

"How about you just show us, huh? That's a good little sorcerer's apprentice..." Raphael was grinning demonically.

"Who else is here?" asked Leo. "Who's in the building?"

"I-I thought everyone had g-g-gone home," stuttered Sam. "Except Alex...and, uh, you guys."

"Ok," said Leo. "Keep sharp, watch for surprises. Let's go."

We crept back down the stairway again, Leonardo at the lead, Raphael holding Sam in a painfully contorted grip, Donatello on rear guard. Mike hooked an arm through mine, though not for support.

"Lions and tigers and bears, oh my..." he chanted in my ear.

Just above the fifth level we heard voices coming from below. Even I had the good sense to freeze motionless.

"Oh, shit, oh man. Oh, we are dead. We are so dead," came one voice.

"I fear those are the first truthful words you have spoken all night, Takimoto-san."

"Look, we find 'em, that's all. We find 'em, and, uh..."

"I have no wish to find them. I would rather die by my brothers' hands, which now I fear we shall, than by the kappa. We should never have trusted that girl."

"Shuttup Tsui! I thought she was with whatsis name- the scary dude. I thought she was on our side! How was I supposed to know?"

There was sound of soft footsteps coming from further below and then an astonished third voice. "They have _escaped?"_

"Uh...yeah, and oh, man, what a fight! Tsui an' me, we're lucky to be alive-"

"We must tell Madame-"

"No-no wait a minute-!"

Leonardo vanished. There was a soft scuffle noise and a sound like a bag of laundry sliding down the wall. Donatello slipped past us, followed by Raph, and the captive Sam. Mike tightened his grip on my arm, keeping me at his side.

"Mike, it's clear," came Don's hushed voice. We crept down On the landing before the iron door of the prisoner's chambers two Foot lay on the floor. Leo reappeared on the stairs leading down to the next level

"Third one got away…must have ducked in to somewhere. It gets real dark below this level."

"Great," grumbled Raph. "Probably the one who wants to go blab our escape to someone."

Leo gazed down at the two unconscious men at his feet. "Most likely, though I can never tell these guys apart…I don't like it, but I think we'll just have to take our chances with the loose cannon. I want us all out of here as soon as possible and it could take too long to find him." Leo turned to me. "_How _unconscious is Skylord, anyway?"

"I think I gave him enough to keep three normal men out of it for 12 hours…but I'm not sure he's a normal man any more."

"What do you mean?"

"He's different, Leo. I'm not sure what it is, but I could feel something different. I mean, he was getting more and more violent before, but now..." Mike squeezed my arm a little tighter. "It's like he's losing his humanity…"

"Ya know, I like hearin' that for some reason," said Raphael. "Ok, where to? " He jerked up on Sam's arm a little.

"Down…further down…" croaked Sam fearfully.

"You better not be shittin' us."

"No, I'm not, really….I..ow! Lia oh-ow!"

"You're not talkin' to her. You're talkin' to me."

Below this level the passage blackened. We took the torches from their holders to light the way. Instead of finished paint the walls were now roughly carved rock. The stairway, too, was now cut into the bedrock of theearth. It grew colder as we wound our way down. I'm not sure it was entirely the air temperature that was contributing to the chill.

"Here-" said Sam, his voice strained, as we rounded a twisting turn in the carved rock. Just ahead was a dark wooden door. "She's in that room. Alex wanted her as deeply hidden as possible." Don raised the torch higher.

I pulled away from Mike and ran past them to the door. Leo reached and grabbed my arm, to pull me back, and I clutched suddenly at his arm to keep from slipping on the something slick on the rock ground. We looked down.

Seeping out from under the door was a pool of black liquid. .

"Yech, not more of this-"

"More theatrics?" asked Don.

I looked at my bare feet, dark with blood. "No," I whispered. "This is real."


	28. Chapter 28

_"Open the door_!" I cried, trying to pull free from Leo as he held on, then passed me back to Don.

"Lia, quiet!" Don hissed, flattening both of us up against the wall.

"_Open-"_

"Quiet!"

"Keys!" snapped Leo, also pressed against the wall and listening at the door.

I fumbled with the key ring looped around my wrist. He impatiently took them from me, at the same time drawing a katana.

We all heard the crying at the same time, a whimpering, weak, little cry behind the door.

_"Oh my god-! _" I tried to escape Don, but Mike grabbed my other hand. _"She's in there!"_

The small space before the door was scarcely large enough for all of us. Raphael had Sam nearly doubled back, knees bowed. "If anything's happened to the kid, you're next," he threatened.

Leo had the key in the door, standing to one side, katana raised in the other hand, ready. Each fanned back in the small space, in ready stances. He turned the key, the lock clicked, he kicked the door in, and it hit something with a dull thump. Don took a step forward, lifting the torch. Leo pushed on the door again, shoving something lying on the floor. He pushed further. The torchlight fell on the body of a dark-haired woman, lying in an immense pool of blood. She lay face down, slightly on one side, the hilt of a sword in her hand, the blade buried in her abdomen.

I recoiled back, nearly falling into Mike, who was hardly prepared to support me.

"Oh, jeez..." breathed Don.

Leo pushed his way in the door, surveying the small room, katana held ready.

_"Mommy-?" _

None of them, with all their fierce strength, could have held me back at that point. I jerked my hand out of Mike's and slipped past Don and ducked behind Leo into the tiny, dark, room with the dead woman. In the back, in the shadows, was a small crib. My hands found my daughter reaching for me in the darkness. I pulled her up to me and she wrapped her little baby arms around my neck.

"Mommy…?" she said.

"Yes, baby, it's me…" I buried my face in her hair, hugging her.

"Mommy, I wan' go home now…."

"Yes, we're going home now," I whispered.

Leo's hands were on my shoulders. "Out-!" He herded me back out of the room.

"Whoa…" Mike exclaimed softly seeing Rose in my arms

"Move it-" Raph ordered Sam, jerking him back around. "You're leadin' this parade-"

"Who do you suppose that was?" asked Don, with a backward glance at the body.

"Don't know, and just now, don't care," answered Leo. "Let's get the hell out of here-"

There was the crunch of a footstep. Something dark and huge filled the passageway before us, blocking our way, robes billowing. The orange light of the torch reflected off the barrel of a small automatic weapon. I screamed.

Donatello swung the torch striking the gun aside as it fired off an ear-shattering round in the crowded little space, bullets ricocheting off the rock walls, flashing brilliant light and dark. Mike dove and flung me flat on the ground, Rose underneath us. I heard Mike gasp for breath, the sound of the gun clattering across the rock, then the grunt and crash and scuffle as bodies hit the ground.

Alex swore and snarled like an animal.

_"You die!"_ cried Leonardo.

_"No!"_ I shrieked, forcing my head up. The torch lay sputtering on the ground, shedding enough light to reveal Alex down, Leonardo astride him, a knee in his back, one hand clutching a fistful of hair, forcing his head back, the other holding a katana aloft.

."Leo-!" I cried, trying to rise. Mike rolled off of me, clutching his side, grimacing horribly. "Oh, God, Mike, I'm sorry _- Leo, stop-!"_

Leonardo froze in mid stroke, eyes still riveted on Alex, but something stayed his hand.

"Leo," Raphael's voice was a low growl from the shadows. "Let me take him…"

Mike to lay gasping next to me, immobilized. I sat up and Rose wailed, clinging to me.

"Leo, please…don't," I tried to turn Rose's tear-streaked, wet face into me, away from the terrible scene before us. "You don't have to do that-_please!"_

He was breathing hard with unspent fury, but seemed to be listening. He lowered the blade slowly so it rested against Alex's throat.

"Leo, let me have him-" said Raphael again. I looked quickly up at him. He still held Sam at sai-point, but his body nearly trembled now in some dark anticipation.

"No!" I cried. "No! Let's go -let's just go!"

Alex, his voice strained by the awkward angle of his neck, spoke. "Good girl, Lia. Call off your pets."

A sharp exhale of disbelief escaped Leonardo. "You don't understand ," he said, his voice harsh. "Believe me, I would make your next breath your last-"

"Come on, Leo," protested Donatello, his eyes never leaving Alex as he cautiously knelt next to Michaelangelo. "There's been enough death. We got what we came for. Let's go."

"Her death bothers you, does it not?" said Alex, almost casually.

"What?" asked Don, startled

"Madame Yurikiki, the woman behind the door. And well it should, since her blood is on your hands-"

"What?" said Don again. "Who is she?"

" An innocent, really," said Alex coolly. " She was trained in the art of geisha, not Ninja. A courtesan to a murdered man. She lies there dead now because in learning of your escape, she could not bear the grief, and chose the honorable alternative-"

"Shuttup!" snarled Leonardo through clenched teeth.

"Oh, indeed, you would not want to hear of this, as you are the murderer of her beloved-"

"Shuttup!"

"One Oroku Saki…"

"Leo," said Raphael. "Let's kill this scum and go."

"No!" I protested again, hugging my crying child close.

Some internal argument passed over Leonardo's face, and then crystallized. With an expression more Raphael than Leonardo, he jerked back harder on Alex's head. "Right. I'm a murderer. So you beg!" he snarled. "Beg for your life! Make her convince me! Maybe I'll listen!"

"You heard him, Lia," gagged Alex, still arrogant. "Convince him."

"No good! Tell her you're sorry. Beg forgiveness

Next to me on the ground Mike had caught his breath and slowly pulled himself onto his elbows. "Go on, Lia," he grunted. "You can at least make him sweat a little. This is for you."

I looked at Mike's face. He grinned at me gamely, and gave me a little go-ahead nod. Rose had calmed a little to shuddering whimpers. I understood what they were trying to do. If Leo couldn't restore my "honor", by killing Alex, he would at least humiliate him. But Alex would never give in anyway. He would die thumbing his nose at me, and at them, I was certain. I just wanted this all to be over. "Leo, I know you feel bound to do...this...but it's not what I ever wanted. I don't know how much of this even has anything to do with me, and I know it's pointless to argue with you, because it seems like what I want has no bearing on what you're going to do-"

Leonardo looked up at me, brow furrowed in confusion. _"What?"_

"All I want is to take Rose, and we all go home-"

Leonardo's mouth opened, as if to speak, and then shut.

Donatello glanced between me and Leonardo and shook his head. "Let it go, Leo. You've got him nailed. Without his magic wand, he's just a punk."

Leonardo looked as though he were about to relent; the blade at Alex's throat dropped a fraction. Suddenly something erupted from Alex; a flash of light and heat crackled across the passageway and hit Donatello. He cried out, and clutching his head, doubling over. I screamed again. With a guttural cry, Leonardo raised the katana, reversed the blade, and brought the hilt smashing down on Alex' head, clubbing him unconscious.

"_Nooo! Alex-!"_ howled Sam.

Raphael shouted something incomprehensible, and doubtless obscene, and delivered an equally savage blow to Samuel's skull. He slumped to the ground.

Rose took a deep breath and let fly with a new round of crying.

Leonardo stepped away from Alex, with deliberate movement, working to control his breath, containing whatever he was feeling. One eye still on the fallen man, he helped Don to his feet.

"Big mistake, Leo," said Raphael. "Shoulda killed him. We still -"

"No. We're leaving. Now. Don, you ok?'

"Yeah, brain hurts, that's all…that was a cheap shot…" Don held his head. "Psychic sucker punch…" he mumbled to himself.

Raphael carefully helped Mike to his feet again. Bracing him with one arm, Raph kicked Alex's still form aside to clear the way. He thought a minute, turned, and kicked him again, harder. "I _know_ we're gonna regret this..."

"I'll take point," said Don. "Since Raph managed to eliminate our hostage..."

"Yeah, well, he pissed me off. Mike, you gonna be able to hike up outta here? We could carry-"

"No, I'm ok."

"No, you're not, and you're a rotten liar," grumbled Raphael.

I sat on the rock floor, still shaking, clutching my poor baby in my arms.

"We go home _now?" _Rose quavered through her hiccups.

Leonardo still held his katana, gazing down at Alex. He looked at me. I'm not sure what I saw in his face, but he was grappling with something.

"Come on, Leo, please...?" I said, looking at the weapon, still dark with blood from earlier, and still looking like a threat.

He slowly resheathed his katana. "Don't worry," he said softly. "You know, I don't think I understand you, either."

"I'm sorry…"

"No," he shook his head slowly, his expression now almost melancholy. "You don't want what I can give you. That's not your fault." He reached his hand down to me.

"Leo..."

"Hm?"

"You did ..." I held Rose. "You gave me all I wanted...all I came here for. You did."

He shrugged, almost dismissal. And I understood, in his crystal blue eyes, it wasn't enough.

I reached for his hand and he pulled me up.

"Leo, thank you."

He smiled. Just a little. "Come on. We still have to get out of this place."

We never saw another living soul in there, not the two guards who had so happily relinquished their post to me, nor the third Foot who had apparently alerted both poor Madame Yurikiki and Alex. I imagine they fled. I certainly would have.

We passed safely out the main doors of the church, into the warm, wide, freedom of the New York City night.

And this ends my telling of the story. For, though what followed needs to be told as well, I must leave that to other voices. It much more concerns the lives of others, than mine. Well, perhaps that is not entirely true. It just seems that the changes which took place in the lives of the turtles were so great, my changes pale in comparison.

I could make my peace with the question of my existence. Every time I look at my daughter, I can give myself a reason to keep going. And for that I will always be in their debt. And also because of that, it's so hard to see them seem to face that question, and not find any easy answers. Oh well, as I said, I must leave that story to another to tell.

_Fin_


End file.
